#about the Biggest Commissions people have ever gotten

[salthien]

Feel free to list the specific price + what it was for in the tags! This is meant to include all one-off, custom commissions/art pieces - so prints/keychains/etc. wouldn’t count, but something like an oc design, fursuit or handmade custom clothing would.

[gurugirl]

Can We Start Over | Ch. 5 The Coincidence

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers

This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).

Chapter 5. Summary: Things have changed for you and Harry but when you see him at a meeting, you are taken by surprise. It feels like destiny. Maybe this time things will work out for you two.

A/N: This is the final part to this series! Thank you everyone who stuck with the story and gave it a shot! Appreciate all the love!

Word Count: 12.7k

Warning: 18+ only, angst, smut, fluff

Can We Start Over? masterlist

Mr. Allen was on the phone again. He’d called you into his office but the moment you stepped in he got a call and told you to sit and wait. That it would only be a minute.

And it was only a minute. But then he got another call and now it was 23 minutes later while he was still yammering about some person who was just the worst.

You were used to it, though. Mr. Allen was retired so nothing was a rush for him anymore. Which also meant he held other people up. But waiting for your boss was the least of your worries.

His wife and her ever-changing personality was your biggest concern. She was, to put it mildly, a monster. And to make matters worse, she ran the whole household so you were often seeking her out for things. Mrs. Allen also handled her husband’s schedule and if he was running behind guess who got the blame. That’s right. You did. Every time.

And it was the same thing over and over again. You started your day trying to keep Mr. Allen up to task, failed, got reprimanded and degraded by a nasty human, held back tears and then took a long drive with loud music to clear your head with a quick stop for dinner, probably at a drive-through.

Needless to say, you were already planning on quitting. You’d gotten really lucky with Alfred. And even working with Harry hadn’t been as bad as it was working for Mrs. Allen and her husband. But you tried not to think about Harry if you could help it.

By the time Mr. Allen got off the phone he was running late for his physical therapy appointment. You got him moving along quickly and sent him on his way but not before Mrs. Allen started poking around and making comments under her breath.

“What was that?” You turned to look behind yourself at the wicked witch as she stood near the edge of the foyer.

“He’s late again.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“That is correct.”

She rolled her eyes, “What’s the point of having a personal assistant who can’t even keep the boss on schedule?”

You smiled, holding back your true thoughts, “Well, being as my job description doesn’t entail using physical force on the boss, which is what it would take to get Mr. Allen to keep on time for anything, I’m certain you’ll find that once again, this isn’t my responsibility.”

“Lazy,” she spoke under her breath.

You tilted your head and squinted your eyes at her, “That’s the last thing I am. Now, if you don’t mind, my workday is over. Have a good evening.”

You walked past her to go into your room to pack up your laptop and leave. You’d stay at your own place that night. You hated staying at the Allen’s house. Not only was the room they’d given you a tiny spec of a thing with no windows, no closet, and not even a single rug to cover the cold tile floors but being anywhere near Mrs. Allen made your skin crawl.

“I don’t know why we bother with the room for you,” she was standing in the doorway when you turned around.

“You really didn’t bother much with the room in the first place. That’s why I don’t stay here. My house has a better bed with a big window looking into my backyard. I just feel better in my own bed at night.”

You walked past her and held your breath so as not to inhale her disgusting, pungent perfume. You used to like the scent she wore. But now you loathed it. Whenever you smelled it, even on another woman, it made you queasy. You very much did not like Mrs. Allen.

You turned up the volume on your car radio the moment your front tires hit the road. You always looked forward to going home after work. This day wasn’t as bad as you’d had before and tomorrow you’d do it all over again.

And instead of stopping at a drive-through for fast food, you decided you’d stop at the grocery store and pick up ingredients to actually make something fresh.

Typically you didn’t cook. You didn’t have time for it. Picking up groceries would put you home at almost 8 pm. And then you still needed to cook so you wouldn’t be eating until close to 9 and then you could finally relax with a glass of wine and a good book or something trashy on television. Which was why drive-throughs were your go-to dinner plans. It meant you were home by 7:30 and dinner was already cooked. Not the best use of money and certainly not the healthiest way to live but you wouldn’t be doing it much longer.

You had a meeting to attend with Mr. and Mrs. Allen the following week that piqued your interest. It was for a piece of art that they’d been looking for. And someone found it for them. From an art dealer who was not too far away. You didn’t know for sure but you had a feeling. And you wanted to find out if that feeling was right.

Maybe you were a masochist and just wanted to pour salt onto the wound of your split open heart one more time. Or maybe you did have some hope that it was Harry and that maybe you could try and receive his feelings for you once and for all.

But it’d been just over 9 months since you’d seen him and you were sure he’d moved on by now. There would be no reason for him to still be pining over you the way you were over him. And what were the chances that it was him in the first place? You didn’t know but you needed to find out.

Yeah. You regretted what you’d done. Pushing him away like that. But once you’d done it, it felt like it was too late to go back. Maybe it was your pride. Or that little voice in the back of your head that told you men always leave and they always lie. That anyone that might love you would probably just disappoint you in the end.

But now you were in therapy and talking to someone opened your eyes to your self-sabotaging ways. You had been certain that the way you felt couldn’t be helped. That you were a prisoner to your trauma and all the hurt and that it was for the best. You’d been wrong, though. You could help the way you processed feelings and the way you responded when things got hard. You didn’t have to push away the notion that a man could love you or keep running away from your problems.

After picking up ingredients to make a nice little dinner for yourself you arrived at your cute house.

You loved the place. Loved the neighborhood. You found it a few weeks after you told Harry to leave your apartment. It wasn’t that far from your old place but you felt like it was good enough for a new start. At the time, you were ready to take the plunge. To move on. It was just a rental but it felt like your own place.

Though, not long after moving in you started feeling like getting rid of every trace of Harry had been a bad idea. You missed him. However, you didn’t recognize how you were feeling for him until you began therapy. The more you spoke honestly about everything and without any judgment, you began to peel off layers of yourself that you had unconsciously piled on to protect yourself. But that only wound up making things worse.

And one night, almost six months since you’d seen him, you decided to drive past his big, gated home. You still had the fob to his entry but of course, you wouldn’t use it. You only wanted to just drive past. To your surprise, there was a For Sale sign stuck in the grass in front of the gate.

You parked across from the house and tried to see if there was anything that indicated he’d actually moved out but seeing inside was impossible. You could see the top level of the house and that was really it.

The sinking feeling in your chest that you’d probably never see him again started to settle over you slowly. You’d moved away and blocked him from everything and then deleted his contact and now he was no longer living in the only place you knew where he might be. He was gone.

But then when you helped set up the meeting with the art dealer there was the smallest tinge of hope there. You felt like this might be your last chance. You had just been about to quit when Mrs. Allen gave you the number to an assistant of a dealer who had access to a painting they wanted. You never learned the name of the art dealer, only of the assistant who worked for them.

So you’d stick it out until after the meeting and then you’d give up your hope for ever seeing Harry again if it wasn’t him. And you’d also quit your job once and for all.

Of course, it’s not him. Don’t get your hopes up.

You had to remind yourself of that over and over again. The chances were slim that you would actually be seeing Harry.

Either way, you were looking forward to that meeting. Even if it wasn’t Harry, you’d be free of Mr. and Mrs. Allen once and for all after you quit.

But the days dragged on slowly. The only thing that was good about the time that led up to the meeting was the little secret that you were quitting. It was something you were excited about.

The morning of the meeting you woke up well before your alarm went off. You’d been unable to fall back asleep as you remembered the last time you and Harry slept together. The words he spoke to you that night haunted you every day since, “Want to make you feel so good. Want to make you smile, Y/n. Want to make you happy.”

You sighed. You hoped it was him at the meeting. You hoped there was still some way to salvage what you’d done. Hoped there was still something there. If it was him, that is.

Your entire morning routine had turned into a spa event. You turned on your coffee pot and then got into the shower, getting yourself ready for the possibility of anything and everything. You had selected your outfit days prior and put on a full face of makeup. You were going to look your absolute best.

And no matter what the outcome of the meeting was, today was a good day. Because at the end of it, you’d be a free woman. You’d never again step foot in the Allen house. You took all of your belongings from the spec of a bedroom over a few days so no one would notice. You rarely stayed over anyway so it wasn’t like you needed to keep much there in the first place.

You had a taxi take you to the Allen’s on that day. Because your plan was to quit the moment the painting was purchased and you weren’t going to be going back to their house with them after the meeting just to get your car. You’d get a taxi home. It was quite dramatic but you couldn’t wait to quit. Couldn’t wait to tell Mrs. Allen you were done and then walk off. Only a few more hours.

When you arrived at the Allen’s your first stop was the kitchen to make Mr. Allen’s coffee (skim milk and stevia) and Mrs. Allen’s chai green tea with raw honey. This was always the best part of your day. Things were usually quiet, Mrs. Allen wasn’t raging just yet, and the morning light that came into their gorgeous kitchen felt peaceful. While the coffee was perking you brought Mrs. Allen her tea drink where you knew you’d find her and placed it down on its coaster next to her. As usual, she did not acknowledge your existence or even say thank you.

Mr. Allen was always cordial, however.

“Morning Mr. Allen. Here’s your coffee.”

“Thank you, Y/n. Have you seen my wife this morning?”

You smiled and stood next to his desk, “I just gave her some tea. Why?”

“I think she wanted to make sure we had wire information set up to pay for the painting today. She’s very set on making the purchase. Can you double-check we have everything we need?”

“I’m certain we have everything we need but I’ll definitely do a quick check.”

As you suspected, everything was ready to go. When you confirmed as much you went to find Mrs. Allen to tell her.

“Mr. Allen told me you wanted to make sure the wire instructions were ready and I just wanted to let you know that we’ve got everything we need and it’s all ready to go for when it comes time to pay.”

“Good. Now,” she turned to look at you, “this is a meeting we cannot be late for so I’d appreciate it if you could have everything ready for us so there are no delays. I don’t want any excuses.”

You nodded, stifling the small laugh before it could make it out of your mouth, “Of course, Mrs. Allen.”

But as always, Mr. Allen was dawdling. You did remind him of the meeting but he assured you he was going to be on time. He wasn’t. You weren’t surprised.

When it was time to leave he was still in his office in his slippers on his third cup of coffee talking to his brother about sports.

“I told you this is a meeting we cannot be late for. This is unacceptable!” Mrs. Allen was red in the face as she barked at you. Somehow, she always seemed shocked when her husband held things up. You didn’t know how it was possible that she was so surprised.

You blinked your eyes and sighed, “He doesn’t need to be at the meeting with us. I say we just go. He’ll be fine here by himself.”

She nodded and mumbled under her breath about your incompetence, “Tell him we’re leaving without him. I’m going to get the driver to pull the car around.”

You poked your head into the office and waved at Mr. Allen and he pulled the phone from his ear to look at you with his brows raised. As if he didn’t know what was going on.

“We’re going to leave now for the painting. You can stay behind. No need for you to be there. Okay?”

He smiled at you and nodded before getting back to his call. You knew he didn’t care. This painting wasn’t for him. It was for Mrs. Allen. It was something she’d been wanting. She’d just hang it up alongside the rest of her collection of exotic animal paintings and artwork.

The car ride was silent. Which you preferred. You tried not speaking to Mrs. Allen when you could help it. Luckily she wasn’t interested in having a conversation with you.

And 30 minutes later when you arrived, your mind was swirling with thoughts of what could happen and what probably wouldn’t.

Your nerves were all over the place. If you were about to walk into a room with Harry Styles, being nervous was warranted. You hadn’t seen his handsome face in so long and wanted so badly for it to be him.

It was unlikely. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. No reason to get your hopes up.

You and Mrs. Allen got out of the car once the driver had let you both out at the front.

It was a public gallery so everyone could just walk in to admire the art. You noticed there were people inside looking at the sculptures and paintings as you followed behind Mrs. Allen toward the desk at the side of the room where a young woman sat.

“Hi. I’m Delia Allen here for a meeting to view the Ghaui piece.”

The young woman smiled widely, “Yes. Of course! Just follow me. We have it moved into a special viewing room just for you.”

If there was ever a moment in your life where you thought that one small step toward a physical room could forever change your life, it was this. What if he was there? What if he wasn’t?

The gallery wasn’t a large space but there were temporary walls placed around the room to act as dividers and a spot for more art to hang. You wove around the walls and into a hallway where the young woman stepped into a room with Mrs. Allen just behind her. You paused for a moment before stepping inside. This was it. It either was or it wasn’t.

Placing your hand on the frame of the door and taking a deep breath you breached the space to enter the viewing room and found that there was no one else inside. It was the painting that Mrs. Allen had been so keen on buying, hung up with lights aimed at it, a table and chairs.

You didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t this. You imagined someone would be inside the room waiting for you.

“The dealer will be right in. He’s finishing up something with someone else. Five minutes tops.”

The painting was of elephants in an African wildlife scene. It wasn’t your taste but you had to respect Mrs. Allen for her interests. If there was anything about her you could say you liked, it was her love of animals and how much support she’d given African wildlife sanctuaries. She’d also gone on many safaris (without Mr. Allen you learned) and helped fund conservation parks that helped employ people and protect the land and animals. Honestly, when you found out this was her thing you felt like you were looking at a different woman.

She was still a bitch, though.

“I thought this meeting was set up and ready to go, Y/n,” she turned to look at you. As if somehow the dealer running late was your fault.

“It is set and ready. The girl said the dealer would be right in. We just need to wait a couple of minutes.”

You didn’t look at her face as you responded. You were done looking at her face. After this meeting, you’d never have to look at it again.

“Sergi could’ve come if I knew this was going to happen.”

You rolled your eyes, back facing her as you looked over the lines and the paint on the canvas. It was a well-done piece of art.

When the door opened only a moment later you felt your heart stop for a split second, a chill ran down your face, over your shoulders, and through your spine as you slowly turned around when Mrs. Allen spoke, “Finally.”

Your vision grew spotty, like tiny particles floating around and mixing up the scene before you. Fuzzy like a grey screen on a television. You blinked your eyes to clear your sight as you looked at him for the first time in over 9 months. It was him.

And his reaction to you appeared much the same, with him pausing in the doorway, mouth agape, eyes wide.

“Hello? Are you the dealer?” Mrs. Allen was great at ruining a moment.

Harry’s eyes blinked as he shook his head and finally peeled his sight from you to look at the other woman in the room. He cleared his throat, closing the door behind himself, and stepped forward to Mrs. Allen with his hand out, “Yes. I’m the dealer. Harry Styles,” he shook her hand and then shot his eyes back to you, taking in your outfit quickly before moving toward you, his hand outstretched in silence.

You hadn’t moved from your spot next to the painting. You hadn’t closed your mouth or peeped a single word because you couldn’t. And even though you had a feeling that it was him before the meeting ever took place, the surprise and shock you felt was overwhelming.

It was really him. It was Harry. And you couldn’t believe it was him.

You placed your hand in his to shake and the moment was eternity. Your eyes pinned together, palms warm to the touch, searching gazes, and a million little thoughts dancing around your heads. It was real. He was real. You were real. The moment was real.

But of course, as Mrs. Allen tended to do she interrupted the odd reunion and began speaking, “Please go over the details with me. I think I’d like to know a little more and then we can talk price.”

Harry’s adam’s apple bobbed as he released your hand and straightened his posture and he handed a folder to Mrs. Allen and began to go over everything she might want to know.

Your heart was racing and you were unable to listen to anything he said regarding the painting. It all sounded like gibberish to you but you could hear his smooth deep voice as he spoke, and the occasional glance in your direction had your skin sparking in delight.

“Earth to Y/n,” Mrs. Allen waved her hand in front of your face and you slowly drifted from your reverie back to reality and looked at her.

“Jesus, it’s like herding cats with you,” she pointed, “Let’s get this part ready. Open your laptop.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out your laptop, placing it on the table so you could begin the wire payment. You looked from Mrs. Allen to Harry and then back to your screen as the bank sight loaded.

Of course, you had to log in and the internet connection wasn’t as fast as you’d have liked so Mrs. Allen let out an annoyed sigh.

“Always like this with her,” she looked at Harry with her arms crossed, “Slow. Lazy–“

“Are you serious?” Harry sounded perturbed. Aghast.

You looked from him to Mrs. Allen and the look on his face matched the sound of his voice as he looked at her with disdain.

“Of course I am. You don’t know her so you have no idea what–“

“I do actually know her,” he glanced at you softening his gaze. “Don’t speak about her that way or the deal is off.”

You blinked and smiled gently as you opened up the bank wire screen.

“What? You can’t treat me like this. I’m a paying client. I will walk out of here without this painting if you dare–“

“Then leave.” He looked at her with his brows raised in a dare.

She huffed and clutched her purse, “Fine. Just… do the deal, Y/n. I’ll be right back. I need to use the restroom and get some air. When I return I want this to be over with.”

She walked out of the room and slammed the door rudely and Harry stepped in front of the computer as you looked up at him, “Y/n. I can’t believe it’s you. Are you working for her?”

You stood up straight and nodded, “Yeah. It’s a disaster. I’m quitting as soon as this is over. It’s been my plan for a month.”

He smiled, “You’re quitting? Now?”

You nodded again, “Yes. As soon as this deal is complete I’m done.”

“Can I see you? Like, after this? Dinner maybe?”

You sputtered a tiny laugh. It was like music to your ears, “Okay. Why not?”

Harry grinned widely and pointed at the computer, “Let’s get this over with then. Push that payment through and let’s get out of here.”

There it was again, the blurred vision, grey and colored specs floating around you as if you were in the grey screen of a TV. You couldn’t believe it. Perhaps it was only a dream. Perhaps you were about to wake up and it was all going to have been just a wild dream that you’d never recover from.

You called the bank with a smile on your face to begin the wire transfer. Everything was set as you entered the details into the account on your laptop and spoke with the representative.

But of course, there was one thing holding the whole thing up. Mrs. Allen had to be there to verbally give the go-ahead to the man on the phone. You were not authorized.

So when she came back to the room and the payment wasn’t yet completed she was furious, “How can you mess up the simplest things, Y/n?”

“All you need to do is tell the man this wire transfer from your bank to the owner’s is authorized. You’re holding this up. Not her,” Harry spoke.

She pulled the cell phone from you with a sigh and spoke into the receiver as you smiled at Harry.

“There. It’s done.” She handed the phone to you and the transaction was finalized. Emails went out to all the parties involved in the sale with the receipt and you closed your laptop.

“Good. Now, have someone wrap this so I can bring it back without getting scratched.”

Harry nodded, “I’ll have Laira get someone for you and they’ll bring it to your car.”

Mrs. Allen looked at you and snapped her fingers, “You can go wait in the car for me. No need to have you standing around and gawking like an idiot.”

You stuffed your laptop into your bag and looked at Mrs. Allen, “Delia?” You made it a point to call her by her first name, which you knew she hated, “I quit. Working for you has been hell. You’ll go home without me as I’ve already made other arrangements. Tell Mr. Allen it was lovely to work for him. I’ll send him an email explaining why I quit tomorrow. Also, the agency won’t work with you again after I share details and proof of the way you treated me.”

Her mouth dropped open and the look of surprise on her face was quite hilarious as you pushed passed her with Harry following behind you.

You felt exhilarated and your heart was pumping blood through your body and your limbs rapidly as you smiled and made your way to the front of the gallery.

Harry kept in step with you as he waved at the girl at the desk, “Please help Mrs. Allen get the painting wrapped and put into her car. I’m done for the day. Call me if you need anything.”

You felt the warm air hit your cheeks when you stepped outside into the sun with Harry behind you.

“Y/n, I’m still kind of in disbelief that you’re here. I must be dreaming,” he turned toward you with a wide grin.

“I feel the same way. Like I’m just going to wake up and it’s all been a dream.”

“Pinch me,” he put his arm out and pushed his shirt sleeve up to his forearm, displaying the tattoos on his skin.

You laughed and put your thumb and pointer over his skin and gave him a good pinch and he let out a deep breath, “Do it again.”

You couldn’t stop the small chuckle that fell from your lips as you pinched him again and he grabbed the tops of your arms tightly, “Y/n I’ve missed you so much. I’ve wanted to talk to you so many times. I have so much to tell you.”

“Me too, Harry. There’s so much to say.”

He led you to his car and you both got inside. It felt so surreal to be climbing into Harry’s car with him, “Where would like to go eat?” He looked at you from the driver’s seat as he started up his car.

You shook your head, “I don’t know. Don’t care really.”

He nodded, “Yeah I don’t care either. Just as long as I get to go there with you. Okay, we’ll go to this spot I found some months ago. They have great crab cakes.”

When he pulled out to the street you looked at him, “New car then?”

He nodded, “Yeah. The lease came up on the other one and figured something different would be nice. I’ve had this for a few months.”

“And did you move?”

He licked his lips and glanced at you, “Yeah. Not long after you left. A lot has happened since you’ve been gone. I… did a lot of thinking about what I want in life and how I want to live it. The place was too big. Not sustainable for me any longer. Too expensive.”

“Really? That’s surprising.”

He breathed out through his nose as he nodded, “I stopped dealing with stolen items. It was dumb of me to get involved in all that in the first place. I never started off being an art dealer with the idea that I would be wealthy. It began because I genuinely love the art world and discovering new pieces. I lost that somewhere along the way and you leaving like you did remind me of what was important in life. Money is not all there is.”

You were surprised to hear this. It made you wonder what else had changed.

The restaurant was a small, hip-looking spot. You had both arrived before the dinner crowd, it was still a bit early for dinner, but to you, it didn’t matter. You were with Harry again and even though you weren’t quite sure what to expect things were going better than you imagined.

You and Harry were seated at a small round table for two by a big window looking out over the parking lot. It wasn’t fancy but it felt amazing to get face to face with him after all that time.

“Y/n, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you look incredible. I know I said it already but I really missed you. I hope you and I can keep in touch after this. If that’s something you wanted. It would mean so much to me to be able to see you again.”

You picked at the corner of the laminated menu that had been placed on the table in front of you and looked up at him, “Harry, I missed you a lot too. I regretted the way I ended things. Moving away and blocking you. I thought it was the right thing to do. I deleted every part of you from my life and by the time I realized it was a mistake I didn’t have your contacts anymore,” you shook your head as you looked into his eyes, “I’m sorry I did it that way. I’m sorry for walking away from you.”

Harry reached across the table and put his hand over yours, “I’m glad you did. Y/n, I don’t know if I would have had the kind of self-reflection and epiphany I did if you’d stayed. But you leaving like that made me rethink everything I thought was important. Made me realize that dealing in the black market and jet-setting all over the world to do something that goes against my very core… I hated it. I hated you leaving but it opened my eyes.”

“So you really don’t do any of that anymore?”

He shook his head, “No. Now I bounce around from gallery to gallery to view pieces and check the legitimacy, the provenance. I work for myself still but now I’m not making as much money. Which is fine!” He laughed, dimples digging into his cheeks, “It’s better this way. I sleep better knowing I’m doing things right now.”

“Where do you live now?”

“Like twenty minutes from here. Bought a regular-sized house with a garage and an ugly entryway,” he grinned, “But I love it. I love it because it makes me feel happy. It’s not so much to maintain. Had to let go of all the staff I had but other than that, I haven’t missed the income as much as I thought I would.”

You were impressed with him. You never imagined he’d stop dealing in illegal items because you knew the money was so good.

The waiter stood at your table and you both told him what you’d like to drink. A sparkling water with lemon for you, and a hot black tea for him.

“So you were working for that woman. She’s awful. How long did you stay with her?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I worked for the Allens for just over seven months. Hated every minute of it. She only got worse as time went on. I thought once she got used to me she’d lighten up be she was truly evil. Would just talk down to me and blame me for everything that went wrong.”

“Why did you stay there for so long?”

“At first I stayed hoping it would get better. You know you kind of get into a groove and can look past bullshit and then everyone starts to get used to one another. But that never happened. I tried to stick it out. But then of course I needed the money too. Well, on some level. The security of having a job is nice and the rent at my new house is a lot more than what I paid at my apartment. Figured I’d wait for the right moment. Then about a month ago I found out that Delia wanted to buy this piece of art she’d been wanting and she was going to go through a dealer and I was just about to quit. I really was but,” you shrugged and smiled as you looked down at the menu, “Though it would be funny if maybe you were the dealer,” you brought your eyes back up to him.

He squinted, his brows pulling in as he looked at you, “You continued working for them when you thought maybe I was going to be the dealer on the sale? So you could see me?”

You nodded and smiled, “I mean. Sort of. I really didn’t think it was going to be you but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to just see. So I stuck it out. My plan was to quit the moment the deal was over. That’s why I was saying that at the gallery. It was like, one last thing, just to see if it was you and then I was done working for them.”

Harry laughed and pulled his lips into his mouth, shaking his head in amazement, “I can’t believe you wanted to see me. I was certain you were done and wanted nothing to do with me. I did go back to your apartment one day, maybe like two months later. But you’d already moved out. And you never responded to any of my texts or calls. Figured that was that. What made you want to see me?”

You tried not to feel bad how you ended things with him but it was hard not to, “I really did like you. It was just hard for me to admit how much. And then Brandy, my best friend, talked me into going to therapy. And honestly? Just talking about how I process things and my emotions with someone else helped me a ton. Helped me see how I self-sabotage. Anything that might make me happy, specifically romance, was a big block for me. I didn’t even realize it consciously. I think I knew I pushed people away when I didn’t need to. And I realized I did that with you.”

Harry nodded as he listened and the waiter placed your drinks down on the table before taking your orders for food.

It felt like you had so much to tell him and you could see Harry felt the same with everything he admitted to you. You loved listening to him and watching him as he spoke or the way he gazed at you as you recounted the last 9 months to him.

While so much did happen in those 9 months, you felt comfortable sitting at that small table talking to Harry about it all. Everything felt so familiar and nice with him. It felt like you were both exactly on the same page and this time around maybe you could really have something special with him. If he wanted the same thing as you.

“So you missed me? What did you miss about me?” Harry smirked at you as he took a scoop of the dessert you were both sharing.

“Hmm… I think I liked it when you were nice to me and vulnerable with me. Our late-night kitchen chats. How you took up for me with that one lady. And even today you did it again with Mrs. Allen. I think there were times when I hated you but mostly I liked you. And those things I missed.”

His smirk didn’t fall from his lips and it looked like he was holding back what he wanted to say.

“What? What’s that look?” You pointed your fork at him.

Harry laughed and looked down at the table before putting his eyes back on yours, “You didn’t miss… like my body or something?”

You laughed and grinned at him, “Oh my god, Harry,” you rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“I mean you have to admit, Y/n, we are very good together. Aren’t we? Like… just fit so well me and you.”

You inhaled and let your eyes trail over his features as you tried to keep the grin off your face.

“You’re insane.” You licked your lips.

“No, I’m not. You know it’s true. Tell me you’ve had better with anyone else and I’ll tell you you’re lying. You missed me but you also missed all those dirty little things I did to you.”

“You’re way too confident and cocky still,” you laughed.

“Am I?” His smile was something that always got you. The grin, the dimples, the crinkles at the edge of his eyes.

“What do you want me to say, Harry? That I missed little Styles down there?” You sputtered a laugh.

“Little? Is that what you’d call it?” He placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward closer to you, “You said otherwise when–“

“Anything else for you two?” The waiter broke the tension as Harry shot his eyes up to the man.

“I think we’ll take the check. Thank you.”

You laughed as the server walked away and Harry cocked his head with that smirk still plastered on his face.

The sun was beginning to go down as the check was laid on the table and you insisted on splitting it with Harry. He grumped about you paying anything at all but you weren’t taking no for an answer.

You were surprised you’d been at the restaurant for so long. Hours had gone by but it didn’t feel that long because you two had so much to talk about. So much lost time to make up for.

“So where do you live, Y/n? Should I drop you off at home?”

You bit your lip and shrugged, “Not too far from here. Off Coalfax and the interstate. Do you want to drop me off?”

Harry’s smile softened, “I don’t want to drop you off. No. I want to continue this. I’m not ready for you to disappear again.”

Swallowing you reached your hand toward his and rubbed your fingers over his knuckles, “Then you don’t have to drop me off. Come with me. I’ll invite you in.”

Harry stood up quickly, taking your hand in his as you both walked to the exit and toward his car. You laughed as he pulled you along.

“Coalfax? Just North of here?” He spoke as he started up his car.

“Yeah. Exactly. You’ll take a right on Coalfax. I’ll tell you where to go.”

Harry kept glancing at you and the smile on his face stayed throughout the entire drive. You were sure he was feeling the kind of excitement you had bubbling in your tummy. Still not quite sure of what to expect but nearly certain of what could happen.

Maybe you were jumping in too fast but maybe… just maybe the timing was exactly right. You couldn’t tell but you weren’t going to let yourself overthink it. That wasn’t going to happen with you anymore. You already regretted too much of what had happened with Harry and this time would be different.

Harry parked his car on the street in front of your small house and you both walked up to your door, “You’ve still got the same car,” he noted.

“Yup. Runs well. No payment other than insurance. Cheap maintenance. I love the old thing. Hope I never have to get rid of it.”

Harry followed behind you through your front door and you switched on the light before you felt his hand tugging at yours.

You turned to face him and the reality of everything was clear suddenly. You’d reconnected with Harry. The one man you couldn’t stop thinking about. Couldn’t stop replaying his words to you, couldn’t stop imagining the way he kissed you and took care of you.

“I can’t believe you’re standing here in my living room,” you smiled at him and Harry shook his head.

“I can’t believe I’m here either. I can’t believe I’m looking at you and that you were there today and…” he swallowed as he squeezed your hand, “I don’t want to scare you off, Y/n, but you have no idea how happy I am right now. How this all feels like destiny. Like we were meant to be here right now.”

You laughed through your nose, “I don’t really believe in stuff like that, but it doesn’t kind of feel that way, doesn’t it? Like another chance.”

He nodded, “Another chance. Exactly.”

“Do you want to sit? Or would you like some wine?”

Harry looked around the space of your living room. He hadn’t taken his surroundings in until then as he was too focused on you.

“Maybe a glass of wine. If it’s not too much trouble.”

You grinned, “Of course it’s not. Come. It’s in the kitchen.”

The light flickered on overhead as you flipped the switch and then opened your cabinet to retrieve the bottle of wine and two glasses.

“Y/n, this place is really nice. I like it.” Harry looked around as he spoke.

“I like it too. It’s why I moved here. Felt like home when I walked in to view it for the first time. It’s just a rental but it’s perfect for me.”

You placed the bottle on the counter and handed him a glass of wine.

Harry held his glass up, “Thank you for inviting me in and for humoring me with your kindness.”

You laughed, “Humoring you? Harry, I am fully genuine right now. I wanted to have dinner with you and I wanted you to come into my home. I’m not just being nice. I want you here.”

“I like hearing that.”

You both took a sip of your wine as Harry kept his eyes on you.

It was warm. Searing hot in fact. Harry was gorgeous and he was in your house and he was looking at you with those green eyes that had looked at you so many times before.

“Have you…” He paused as he placed his glass down and cleared his throat, “Have you seen anyone since? Like dated? Are you dating?”

You laughed at the way he fumbled his words. He seemed nervous suddenly, “No. I haven’t.” You placed your own glass down and suddenly felt that flutter of nerves, “And… I’m a little nervous to ask you the same.” You raised your brows at him.

He shook his head, “No.”

You nodded, “Surprised to hear that. But relieved I have to admit.”

“Why are you surprised?”

“Because I thought you’d have your pick. In fact even today when I thought there was a chance I might see you, felt like it was silly because surely you’d moved on and found someone.”

Harry’s brows stitched together, “I had a hard time feeling okay after that day when I left your apartment. Have actually never been so depressed and distraught over anyone before. I couldn’t just move on. Even when I started to feel a little better about it all. I just missed you so much. I know you blocked me on every platform out there. I got the hint when you didn’t text or call back. But I still missed you.”

You smiled, “And you’re not on social media at all. I did look but I kind of felt like if I did find you it wouldn’t have been good for me. I know I could have tried harder to reach out. I think I was a little scared of what I’d find.”

“What did you think you’d find?”

“That you were dating someone. I don’t know.”

The air shifted when Harry brought his hand up to your chin and gently gripped your face, “You’re the only woman I’ve had my mind on all these months. The only one I could ever think about. I don’t want anyone else.”

Your lips parted and you blinked your eyes as you took in his words.

“Do you understand what I mean? I don’t know if you feel the same way about me but just to know that you missed me and want me to be here with you right now means everything to me.”

“I don’t want anyone else either, Harry.”

“Does that mean you want me? I just need to hear it if it’s true, Y/n.”

You gulped and nodded, “Yeah. I do.”

The hand that held your chin released you and moved around to the back of your neck while his other hand landed on your hip and he pressed his lips to yours.

At last. At last.

You closed your eyes and drew your hands up to the back of his neck and moaned as he opened his mouth and you opened yours. Lips winding and smearing and pushing…

It felt like you were looking down at yourself, watching as you kissed Harry in your kitchen. And it was a beautiful sight. The two of you joined, grasping onto the other, hearts thrashing in your chests, bodies alight.

Harry’s grip on your side tightened, his fingers pinching around your clothes. The hand at the back of your neck squeezing and holding you in place as his lips slid against yours

You allowed yourself to be pulled in closer and moved your hand into his curls. You missed his scent. You missed his touch. His warmth. His care.

He parted from the kiss and moved his hand to your jaw, “Can we start over? This time, Y/n, you’re not going to regret it. This is it for us. Understand me?”

His words were almost a threat. Or maybe a promise. Both perhaps.

“Yes, Harry. I’m not going to regret it this time. I promise.”

He nodded, still holding you close, and then softly ghosted his lips over yours, “Because I can’t lose you again. I want this with you.”

You were gonna lose it. Everything was too much and not enough. You wanted him and you wanted to go slow but you wanted to tear his clothes off and feel him all over.

“I want you, Harry,” you breathed out against his lips as you clung to him, “I want this with you.”

You felt the vibration of his moan against your mouth as he dropped his lips to your chin and then along the curve of your jaw. When his lips pressed into the skin on your neck you gasped and hugged him tighter. His mouth drew your flesh in as he sucked a spot and then lowered to the curve of your shoulder and neck, suckling again at the skin where you knew it would be bruised.

“Fuck…” he whispered as he pressed his nose against your jaw, “Where’s your bedroom, Y/n?”

That was easy. The house was small. You led him down the hallway to your bedroom where you turned on your lamp and he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Take your clothes off.”

You were surprised by his sudden command but you didn’t want to ask questions. The only thing you wanted was him and his hands and his body…

You pulled off your top before unzipping your skirt and kicking it down your legs. Harry’s eyes were dark as he continued taking his clothes off while he watched you undress.

When you were only in your underwear and bra he pointed, “Off. All of it.”

You swallowed and did as he said. Taking your bra off first and then your panties slowly as you used your bed to keep balance.

Harry was left in only his boxer briefs as he stalked toward you like a predator. You’d seen him in action before, you’d seen him a little dominant but this was different. It was like he had something to prove.

“On the bed, Y/n.”

You gave him a curt nod and sat down before scooting back into your bed. He climbed between your legs and moved your thighs apart, “You want this right? You want me? Want us?” He looked at you.

You nodded, “Yes, Harry. I do.”

That seemed like all he needed to know before he finally placed his lips on your chubby thigh, dotting wet kisses down and toward the soft inside near to your crotch and then he switched to the other side, kissing upward gently as he looked at you and then gripped the back of your thighs to push your legs apart, switching his sight from your face to your pussy.

“Y/n I missed everything about you,” he lowered himself, putting his stomach down onto your bed as he held himself over your core, “I know I only had you twice like this but I missed your body. Your smell,” he let go of your left leg as he pressed his fingers onto your mound and slowly dragged them downward, “The way your thighs part and how your skin looks right here,” he pressed a kiss over the spot right next to your labia.

But then he pushed himself up and climbed over you releasing your leg, his hands finding your breasts, “Your perfect tits,” his lips wrapped around your nipple, tongue laving over your sensitive bud and kissing over your soft skin toward your other side, lapping at your plush breasts before dragging his mouth upward to your neck, “Your skin, your voice,” hot peppered kisses up to your jaw until his mouth met yours again.

“Your mouth, this mouth,” he licked against your lips and pushed his mouth against the edge of yours and ran his nose against yours, “You. I missed you. Everything. Your heart and your laugh. I can’t do it again. I can’t go through that again.”

You felt his hands on your face, cupping your cheeks as he looked down at you, “Don’t leave me. Not ever again.”

You shook your head and lifted a hand up to his jaw, “Never. I don’t want to, Harry. I won’t.”

He grinned dreamily at you, his eyes wandering over your features slowly before he lowered himself down your body again, pressing his shoulders to the back of your thighs, and hooked his arms underneath to keep you in place.

The moment you felt his mouth on your core you clenched your eyelids closed and sighed. It had meant so much to you to have him loving on you, touching you, needing you. And Harry was the only man who’d ever worked an orgasm out of you with his mouth.

And even then, his tongue dragging through your pussylips and up to your clit, over and over again in a teasing, slow build it had you unwinding and unfolding for him. You wanted to give yourself to him fully. And that felt so good.

It felt good to trust yourself for once. To allow yourself to trust him. You could push past your feelings of inadequacy and thinking that no one would actually want you for you. Because that was a lie. You had been lying to yourself for so long and even though you knew it was your own hangup, it was hard to get past it. Until now. Because now you weren’t going to undermine yourself anymore. You learned it was okay to question motives but that it was also okay to accept kindness and love where it was offered.

You felt as he applied open-mouthed kisses to your clit and finally began to push over it, the pressure and the slide of his tongue right where you needed him had you moaning. Had you getting his face all wet.

Harry’s mouth and tongue worked at you strategically; slow teases of a gentle lap at your bud and then a harsh suck and flick to make you shiver. Every wet drag of his muscle against your clit drew you closer to your end as you gave in to the feeling.

And just like the other times he’d eaten you out you reached down to push your fingers into his hair and arched your back into him as a signal for him to keep doing exactly what he was doing. And he seemed to understand your nonverbal cue as he dug in and continued lapping and sucking exactly like you liked.

He watched your tits wobble and your body jerk and convulse as he kept his mouth suctioned to your pussy with his tongue wagging and slicking over your puffy clit until he felt you pressing his head down further and you coughed out a loud groan when your thighs started to shake.

His moans into your pussy vibrated through to your guts and it felt like you were going to explode.

“Fuck, Harry!” You were grinding yourself into his mouth and nose as you felt your release snap and you lost control of your volume and the sound of your voice and your limbs as he held you down so he could press broad strokes of his tongue over your pussy back and forth.

Harry closed his eyes and let you use his face and mouth to grind your clit on as you orgasmed. His cock was so hard; just tasting you and hearing your gasps and pleas of need had him spinning in the clouds. It made him happy to hear how good he was making you feel.

And that’s what he wanted the most. Was to make you happy. He wanted your smiles and laughter. He wanted you to enjoy his company and to feel happy with him. He wanted your heart and your soul and everything that made you who you were because he’d already decided he’d give you everything he could. His heart was yours already.

Ever since that day you kicked him out of your apartment, he hadn’t stopped thinking about all the things he did wrong. How childish he’d been with you. He hadn’t meant to fuck up so badly but he would make sure that his old ways were in the past. Now he was yours and he would prove to you that you could trust him.

When you gently released his hair and pushed yourself up to look at him he lifted with a grin, “Felt good?” His mouth and chin were glistening with you.

You laughed and nodded as you watched him slide his underwear down his sturdy thighs and toss them onto the floor. His body was even better than before. You weren’t sure why. Maybe he’d been hitting the gym harder. Or maybe it was just that now things were different. And you were seeing him in a different light. Looking at him in a way that you never had before. But you were still focused on his strong build and dark tattoos as well. That glorious cock, bobbing and heavy was all yours. You loved the way he felt inside of you and how perfect it looked hanging between his thighs like it was.

You sat up and got to your knees to adjust yourself and laid a palm on his thigh as you looked at him and licked your lips. He understood your hint as you moved your hand up toward his cock and he looked down at your fingers before placing his hand over yours, “We’ll do that later. Plenty of time to get to all that. I just want to make love to you, Y/n.”

“But you ate me out. I should at least–“

“No. Later,” he got to his knees and pushed you gently back to your bottom, “You don’t understand. I can’t wait one more second to be inside of you. We’ll have plenty of time for that other stuff but I haven’t had sex since in 9 months. If you put your mouth anywhere near my cock it’s gonna make me come too fast. A little out of practice,” he smiled with a small laugh as you laid your back into the mattress and he settled himself between your legs, hips tucking against yours.

You could feel his rigid, girthy cock slide through your labia as he rolled his hips down and up, wetting his shaft, “Want to fuck you now. Okay?”

You moaned and nodded. It was okay by you. You knew there’d be time for blowjobs later so you didn’t mind having him inside your cunt, stuffing you to the brim like you knew he would. There was plenty of time for all that, now that you weren’t going to be running off from him again.

“Want this cock, honey?” He continued rocking his hips. Sliding himself up and down, the tip of his cock collecting your arousal and pushing it up to your clit.

“Yes, Harry. Please.” You bucked upward to catch him at your entrance but he pressed your hip down and grinned at you playfully.

“Love hearing you say please. Such a good girl for me.”

You groaned when he wouldn’t push in right away, still teasing you with the drag of his thick shaft up and down through your labia and against your clit. The sound of it was lewd. Filthy.

“Please fuck me!” You whined.

Harry paused his motions, keeping his eyes on yours as he reared back and took his base in his palm to line himself up to your hole. He kept one hand on the inside of your thigh as he began to press himself inward slowly, the snap of his bulbous head entering you and pushing through your walls was the first act of confirming everything.

Confirming that this was it. That now you were connected and there was no turning back. That all the promises spoken were sealed.

You both kept your eyes pinned on one another as he bottomed out, balls tucked against your ass with a whimper from his mouth and a deep sigh of relief.

He slowly pulled back before inching his way back into the hilt and repeated his languid strokes as your wet pussy blossomed and opened wide for his girth until he was rocking down into you with a force that had your tits bouncing and harsh breaths punching from your lungs.

Harry’s strong abs clenched as his thighs flexed, working into you, exacting strokes deep into your cunt and skin colliding every time you felt the dip of his crown nudging into your tummy.

He sat back to his haunches, knees bent with the back of your thighs draped over the top of his. He watched as he sunk into you and pulled back to his tip, his shaft glistening and coated in you before he thrust back in until you were gasping and reaching for his arms to keep yourself grounded. To remind yourself of who’s cock was fucking you so good.

“Love this pussy, Y/n. You take me so well. So fucking juicy and plush,” he pounded into you, putting everything he had into it, muscles working and pushing him further and further as you bounced upward on the mattress every time he crashed into you.

“Hear that, baby?” Harry used a hand to squeeze at your tit, “Your bed squeaking, your pussy creamy and wet around me, those desperate whimpers from these pretty lips?” He pushed his hand up to your mouth, pressing his thumb to your bottom lip.

You moaned in response and nodded as you stitched your brows together in bliss.

“That’s right. That’s the sound of me fucking you and we’re gonna do it again and again and again. Yeah?” He spoke through clenched teeth.

You nodded, “Fuck! Yes, Harry!” Your words were punched from your lungs as he continued railing ito you, his hips rocking against yours.

Your whole being was lit up. From your racing mind to your tingling skin and toes, the bones that kept you solid, your pumping heart, and your pussy gripping onto Harry’s fat cock as he slid into you, back and forth, bumping through your inside walls into that hard-to-reach little dip that had you breathless.

Every stroke he gave you put you closer and closer to your second orgasm. The delicious emergence and unraveling of your end made you delirious.

When he leaned himself over you he thrust down harshly, pushing your thighs wider apart, the sound gushy and slick as he drove into you. You could feel his cock sliding through your guts and his pelvis grinding against your clit making you quiver.

“Oh my god…” you panted as you reached up for his shoulders where you could feel the taught muscle keeping himself up and aligned as he fucked into you, your back digging into the mattress underneath.

“Yeah? Feels good huh? Told you we fit together perfectly. Pussy deserves to be filled and stuffed every day. Want you to feel so good, baby…”

“It’s so fucking good,” your whimpered words were shaky and breathy.

“I know baby… So good… gonna give it to you every fucking day like this. Make love to you and treat you like a queen. Be so good to you…” his strained words were breathy as he was feeling the heat with you.

His lips pressed into yours and your brain short-circuited as you fell into that hazy, floaty space of ecstasy and need. Need for Harry and his body and his heart. Need for happiness with him. The need to feel happiness with someone you could trust.

When you sucked on his tongue and he rocked into you, keeping his hips smoothe against yours you began to whine and moan as your orgasm approached.

But then Harry stopped. He pulled back from the kiss and looked down at you with that evil grin you’d seen before and you gasped at the loss. You had just been on the cusp of coming.

He quickly pulled out as his own chest was rising and falling rapidly, his cock swayed and you pushed yourself up to see what was happening before he grabbed your sides and rolled you over to your tummy.

“Harry!” You yelped at the sudden maneuver and felt his palm land harshly on your bum. And then again and again. You jumped and crooned out as he issued your ass a handful of spankings to each side and then heard him moan when he kneaded into the meat of your bottom as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You suddenly felt him pushing your legs apart and fitting himself between them as he forced his hard cock back into your wet pussy, his heavy tip pushing past your small opening and you gasped at the suddenness of it all.

You moaned at the relief of finally having him tucked back inside. He slid through you smoothly, his hands holding your ass cheeks apart as he worked himself in over and over. You had your face smushed into the blankets as you sighed.

His hips rocked against your ass and you could feel him swiveling himself in every time his balls pressed into your skin, grounding himself deep through your tummy. The sounds he was making had you grinning. It felt just as good for him. He needed your body for relief. You were happy to let him get whatever he needed from you.

Slow languid strokes of his long cock, splitting you open with every thrust felt so good. It reminded you of how big he really was. How bulky and long his cock was as it disappeared inside of you and nudged its way into your depths.

“Stick your fingers over your clit, Y/n. Go on baby.”

You gurgled a moan and lifted your hips slightly to allow your right hand access to your pussy. And it was more relief. The feel of it all coming together was perfection. His fat cock taking up every inch of your insides, his tip crashing through your guts, the weight of him behind you and fucking you into the mattress, and your fingers on your clit, slipping and pressing…

Harry gave himself a moment to bask in the view of his cock spreading your vagina apart. He dragged a thumb over the spot where he was fucking into you, feeling himself move in and out, watching your pussy wrapped around him, glistening wet until he felt his balls tightening and constricting and your walls clamping down over him.

He could see your hips moving faster as you ground over your hand to get to your orgasm but then he pulled at your hand, moving your fingers away from your clit and you felt his chest against your back and his lips against the shell of your ear as he mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear.

It caught you off guard. The second denial of your orgasm. You angled your neck to try and turn toward him, “Harry, what?”

You felt him press his cock in hard, hips stilling against your ass, his lips pressed over your ear, “Put your fingers back on your clit but don’t move them til I say.”

In confusion, you slid your hand back to your core and he continued, “Good.”

He reared back and then thrust forward again, “Do you want to come, Y/n? Wanna come on my cock?”

You moaned a yes as you secretly slid a finger across your bud making you shiver.

“Then tell me you’re mine. Say you’re mine, Y/n, and I’ll let you come.”

You had no hesitation in telling him just that, “Harry I’m yours. I’m yours…”

“My girl. That’s right. Rub your pussy, baby. Get yourself off,” his breathy words were warm over your ear and neck as you began to slip your fingers back and forth to get you back to that spot that would have you tipping over the edge.

Then you felt Harry shift behind, his chest no longer pressed into your back as he started pounding into you, “Fucking come, baby. You’re mine now…”

You grinned in elation at his words and the way he sounded totally fucked out himself. Much like the way you were feeling. Like he was out of his mind with lust for you.

Every smack of his hips into your bum had you jolting up and you ground down into your hand, rolling your clit over whatever you could reach when you started to feel that melting, unraveling sensation. The electrical charge that made your pussy quiver and your back arch and your vision go white.

“There it is! Fuck!” Harry’s thrusts were harsh but every stroke felt like a sparking and exhilarating charge going through your body. His tip plunged into your cervix and fingers gripped your bottom harshly as you heard him choke out a loud moan.

“Gonna fill you fill you up baby… fuck… stuff you with my come…”

You could hardly hear your bed creaking and clanking as your ears began to ring and you gushed around Harry, your walls spasming and constricting around him tightly.

He moved into you, gliding in and out until finally his balls squeezed and pumped sperm through his cock directly into your wet hole. He stilled his hips as he whimpered a groan, throwing his neck back with his mouth dropped open, his cock throbbing inside of you, coating your walls with his come.

It seemed to last forever. He moaned and twitched, his body connected and pressed into yours as he drained every bit of himself into you. He pressed inward further, stuffing your pussy with his come, making sure every bit of it seeped through your cunt and soaked your insides.

He hadn’t had sex in 9 months. Jerking himself off didn’t do it like the real thing and when it was with you it was even better. The best. He hadn’t come so hard ever in his life he was certain as his body flushed in heat and his heart thudded wildly in his chest when he crumpled over your back, tucking his arms around you and kissing your neck softly.

You moaned quietly at the feel of him on your back. The post-orgasm glow was never so good before. It felt like you were in a different realm of existence, floating and glowing in bliss.

“You’re mine, Y/n?” He wanted reassurance. Which was understandable after the way you handled things the first time around. But this time was going to be different. You two were starting over again. This time with a better understanding of what the other needed, with a better understanding of yourself and what each of you needed to do to be a good partner. Things were different this time.

Harry pushed himself up and looked down at his sensitive cock still inside of you. He drew himself back and watched as his creamy come leaked from your hole and he pressed himself back inside. You felt him pumping himself in and out shallowly and turned your head to look at him. His eyes were glued to your cunt where he was fucking his come back inside of you. A natural urge he couldn’t deny.

When his eyes found yours and he finally pulled himself out, he helped you roll to your side as he laid next to you, his hand on your cheek and you placed your palm on his chest, “I’m yours, Harry. I was back then too I just didn’t realize it. Couldn’t admit it. But I’m yours.”

You both smiled at one another. His eyes were bright and clear and you could trust him. You knew you could. He made you feel so comfortable about yourself. Made you feel like you could make him happy and that he’d want to stick around for you. That he would make you happy in return.

He took your hand and pressed it harder over his chest, “I’m yours too. I was since the day I first met you. I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful, Y/n. And I’m not letting go of you again.”

You grinned and pushed yourself up to his mouth to kiss him. You felt his palm slide down your side and to your bum, as he squeezed you, causing a laugh to puff out from your lips against his.

“Sorry, I love your ass. Feels so good in my hands. Just wanna bite it and stuff my face against it. Can’t help it.”

You rolled your eyes at him still grinning but when he swatted at your bottom your mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady. When I tell you I love your ass, I fucking mean it.” He gave you another good squeeze to emphasize his words.

So you slid your hand down to his nipple and squeezed at it, “And I love your nipples and these tits,” you laughed.

Harry’s wide grin and dimples were suddenly hidden when he nuzzled his face into your neck and you heard him inhale deeply.

The afterglow with him was something out of a romance novel. It was beautiful and precious. Almost too good to be true.

The sound of a cellphone ringing had both you and Harry lifted out of the sweet moment. He sat up, “It’s me.”

He hopped out of your bed and you watched as he crouched down to his pants where his phone was in his back pocket. His strong back flexing as he pulled it out and then stood up to answer the call.

“Hello?”

You frowned as you watched him disappear into your hallway, still nude. Turning to look at the clock on your side table you noted that it was paste 10 pm. You wondered who was calling at the late hour. Couldn’t have been work. What could be so important that he had to leave your side after he’d just given you the best orgasm of your life?

“I’ll be there! I’m booking a flight as soon as I get off the phone. Yes..”

You could hear him pacing and talking. You picked up most of what he said as you sat silently on your bed waiting for him to return and explain himself.

“I missed you too. I can’t wait to finally meet her. I know. Me too.”

You slid off your bed and pulled a t-shirt from your drawer to put it over your body as he ended the call with an I love you.

Harry walked back into your room with a huge grin, “My sister just had her baby!”

You smiled at him widely as he took three long-legged steps toward you, his cock swaying as he was still completely naked before he wrapped you in a tight hug, “Today is like the best day I’ve ever had. First you,” he kissed your cheek, “Now my sister...”

You laughed when he twirled around with you and then he let go, a sudden look of realization on his face, “Come with me to London. I want everyone to meet you!”

You blinked your eyes and stuttered your words, “Are you serious?”

He grabbed your hands, “Dead serious. Come with me. It’s not like you have to ask off for work. We can go for a couple of weeks. God, it’d be so fun, Y/n. Me and you… My mom’s going to love you.”

Your head was spinning from everything that had happened that day. From the moment Harry walked into that room at the gallery to now having him standing naked in your bedroom asking you to take a trip with him to see his family and his sister’s new baby. But, spinning or not, there was no part of you that would turn down the offer.

“That sounds amazing. I’d love to, Harry.”

He pulled you in for another hug and pressed his face into your neck, “This is going to be so good, Y/n.”

You laughed as he squeezed you tight and then his hands cupped your cheeks, “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, and then we’ll book our flights. Yeah?”

You nodded as your cheeks burned hot when he pressed his mouth to yours again.

It was a funny thing to you. That the first time you had sex with Harry the post-orgasm afterglow was interrupted by a phone call. And this time another phone call had broken the moment too. Except things were not the same as they were then. Now you knew who Harry was. You trusted him and this time everything was going to be different.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this!! xoxo

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[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐰𝐨-𝐁𝐢𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ notes: tagging @orinscrivellos who motivated me to write this. i really enjoyed doing it

↳ warnings: slight implications of transhobia. nothing directly mentioned

↳ song: a little less conversation—elvis presley

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• Two-Bit thinks you’re super kickass for being out and open about yourself in the way you are. It is the sixties after all, and along with living on the East side of town, you aren’t exactly getting treated the best

• But that doesn’t really matter to you. As long as the gang, and most importantly Two-Bit, likes you, then you couldn’t care less

• So yeah, Two-Bit thinks you’re brave. Probably calls you his ‘fearless knight,’ and treats you poshly for a good laugh sometimes. Or about as posh as he can pretend to get. He’s never been really good at playing a rich character despite his improvisation skills. You suppose it’s the way he was raised, the way all of you were raised, that makes it difficult

• Is loud and proud about you being his partner. Unless you want him keeping it under wraps, Two-Bit will pretty much scream it from the mountain tops about how much he loves his boyfriend. Consequences be damned

• “Golly, Two, you just don’t stop talking about him do you?” Ponyboy ogles at his friend as they make their way down the street, heading to meet you for a night out at the Nightly Double. He was in disbelief that anyone could ever talk so much and for so long, much less about the same thing. Even Soda didn’t use to talk about Sandy this much

• “Nope!” Two-Bit pops his ‘p’ loudly, grinning like a shark as he continues on with his train of thought. Pony just shook his head in a mix of awe and horror, already regretting that he had thought to ask Two-Bit how you had been doing. And that was over ten minutes ago!

• Two-Bit has definitely gotten into fights to ‘defend your honor,’ as he likes to put it—most of the time he can hear people at his school bad mouthing you, which any one of you can handle. You don’t live the greaser life without getting your name dragged through the mud after all—but when they start throwing out those names about you, he’ll start a fight quicker than you could blink

• “Oh glory.” You stare at Two-Bit unblinking one afternoon. Two shiny new black eyes peer back, accompanied by a split lip, and you have to resist the urge to drag a hand down your face in exhaustion.All you had wanted to do is come pick him up from his house, and you were met with this mess

• “What? I’ve been trying on a new look. What do you think baby?“

• “I think you’re stupid.” You don't even have to ask how he got those, you already know. A part of you swells with affection at the thought of him caring about you enough to do that, but the more responsible part of you pushed it down in order to sigh

• “But you love me.” Two-Bit retorts with a gleeful laugh, sounding like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Which he doesn’t. In his eyes, he’s got all he ever needs. A mom that loves him, a sister that adores his jokes, friends that have his back, and a handsome boyfriend. What more could a greaser like him want?

• If you come out and then transition, in that order, Two-Bit and everyone would definitely help you with your new style. They’ve spent their entire lives in boys clothes, so they have plenty of fashion tips, if you can even call them that, and materials to spare

• if you wear a bigger size, or want baggier clothing, Dallas and Two-Bit with go and nab pretty much anything you want from the nearby corner store. If you like tighter fitting clothing, or run a little gangly, you are always welcome to borrow one of Pony or Johnny’s outfits. They’d give them to you in a heartbeat if you asked

• Hair greasing lessons! They’ll teach you how to grease your hair up nice so you’ll look tuff, until eventually you’ve learned to do it all by yourself. Two-Bit always smiles the biggest when you come out of the bathroom with your hair slicked back. He likes to think he’s got the best looking partner this side of the railroad tracks

• It doesn’t matter what kind of body you have or want. Two-Bit will support you all the way. It’s not like you can really afford testosterone or major surgery considering you live in the slums of Tulsa with everyone else, and those services aren’t exactly offered to the public thanks to laws at the time, but if you manage to get our hands on any of that stuff, the gang will support your recovery/shot sessions all the way; bringing you whatever you need in the moment and all that jazz, even if Dallas or Steve gripe about running errands

• “Here’s your stupid bandaids.” Dally threw a small cardboard box onto the foot of the couch you were sitting on with a slight rattle. You look up to thank him, and he just blows out a bit of smoke from his mouth. You had half a mind to ask him for a drag of his cigarette, but knew Darry would kill you if he caught you smoking after administering testosterone. He was already nervous enough about you constantly taking shots, so you didn’t want to worry him anymore

• “No problem.” Dallas’ gaze drifted over to Two-Bit, who was sitting next to you, and he smiled lazily

• “Hey Two? If the two of you are banging, does that make you gay, or straight?”

• Dally walked away from that conversation that day with a bruise on his arm and a big laugh tumbling from his lips

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for @qwertynerd97; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!

Lynn picks the smallest bedroom of the three, which Billy thinks is a little weird because he would’ve expected him to want either the biggest or second-biggest one, since the biggest is the biggest and the second-biggest gets the best light, especially in the morning. Then again, Lynn’s sort of a teenager, so maybe he wants to sleep in? And Billy guesses he probably doesn’t think he needs a lot of space, since he doesn’t really own anything much yet? 

Well, they can always switch stuff around later if Lynn changes his mind, he figures. 

Billy decides to take the biggest bedroom for himself, since that makes the most sense to him. It’s not that he needs the space either, obviously, but if they do end up using the spare room as a place for Lynn to do stuff he likes in, Billy figures he’ll appreciate having the windows in there while he’s like . . . doing crafts or playing games or whatever he likes to do with himself. Or ends up liking to do, at least. 

He leaves Lynn to get settled in his new room and to set his stuff up however he likes and maybe move the furniture around a bit if he wants, and then peeks into his own room and feels a little . . . weird about it, actually. He hasn’t actually had a bedroom in a while, much less a bedroom that was really, like . . . his bedroom, and not just the latest foster family’s or children’s home’s or . . . or just whatever. 

It’s–weird, yeah.

Billy stares into the very empty bedroom that he has nothing to put inside except his own half-empty backpack, which is currently sitting in a corner at the Rock of Eternity, and then closes the door and goes to wait in the living room for Lynn instead. 

He’ll worry about the room later, he tells himself. 

He sits down on the couch to wait and figures that once Lynn’s settled in a little, they can make lunch together, maybe, and then maybe just watch some TV or a movie or something? Something quiet and not too demanding but still occupying, so there’s no pressure on Lynn to talk to him if he doesn’t wanna, but he can if he does wanna. And then maybe over dinner they can have the “no” conversation, and also work out some of the house rules and stuff. At least the basics, anyway. Billy doesn’t expect to figure them all out first thing, if only because there’s probably stuff he hasn’t thought of yet or stuff that’ll just come up later. And it’s a lot to put on Lynn all at once, too, so he doesn’t want to overwhelm him or anything. 

Well, he guess it’ll just depend on how Lynn handles those conversations and everything, so . . . yeah, they’ll just have to play it by ear. They’ve got some time to settle in–Billy’s off-duty for the League for the week and the logistics for the sidekicks’ team are still getting worked out, apparently, so Lynn is too–so they don’t have to cover everything tonight. They couldn’t even if they tried, Billy’s pretty sure.

He really wants to make this apartment a nice home for Lynn and a place that he can feel safe and secure in, though. He’s worried about what’ll happen if Lynn doesn’t ever feel comfortable here, or doesn’t get along with him long-term, or if he dies–who’ll take care of Lynn if he dies, he means. He still needs to talk to Batman about that.

Billy did ask what would happen to Lynn if he dies to Batman when they were first discussing all this, since obviously being a superhero is the kind of job that tends to get people killed or at least injured enough to be out of commission for a while, and Batman had gotten very quiet for a moment and hadn’t really answered. He’d said they’d talk about it more later, though, depending on who else in the League Lynn got to know and felt comfortable around. So . . . that’s good, at least, Billy thinks. 

Well–it’s better than Lynn ever ending up stuck with or taken advantage of by some asshole like Uncle Eben, so . . . it’s good, yeah. Not that anybody in the League would ever be like that, obviously, just–yeah. 

Billy just doesn’t like the thought, that’s all. 

Really doesn’t like the thought. 

Lynn doesn’t come out of his room for a lot longer than just rearranging some furniture and unpacking half a backpack should take, and lunchtime kind of passes by. Billy assumes Lynn’s just anxious or worried or nervous, at first, and then wonders–does Lynn know he can come out of his room? If he spent all his time at Cadmus stuck in a pod and not allowed to come out for anything . . . 

Shit, Billy thinks, and tries not to wince. 

“Lynn?” he asks, glancing down the hall towards Lynn’s room but not bothering to raise his voice–Lynn has super-hearing too, after all, so there’s no reason to shout and maybe startle him. “Do you want to make lunch together in a bit? Oh! Or we could order takeout, since it’s kind of a special occasion?” 

“. . . what’s a special occasion?” Lynn asks quietly, not raising his voice either. He sounds like he’s in his closet, so Billy guesses he’s still unpacking after all. 

“Um, well,” Billy says, a little sheepish. “People don’t get new family members every day, right? So I think it’s special, at least.” 

“Oh,” Lynn says. “Um. Yeah. Okay. Let’s do . . . that.” 

“Cool,” Billy says with a grin, resisting the urge to bounce in his seat on the couch. Not very convincingly dad-like, even if Lynn isn’t in here to see him right now. He still wants to make sure he’s acting as dad-ly as he can; get himself in the habit and all, same as the “totally normal adult human” secret identity practice. “I know some good local places, if you know what kind of food you like yet?” 

“The snack cake,” Lynn replies, his voice still quiet, but also a little abrupt. He doesn’t say anything else. It’s not much to go off, but Billy figures it’s a start. It’s not like Lynn’s had time to try much food, right? But the snack cake was strawberry shortcake, and he’s pretty sure the diner a couple blocks over makes actual strawberry shortcake, so they could order from there and get some for dessert? And maybe, like, some pie or cobbler or something else that Lynn could try, if he likes sweet things and fruity desserts. 

“How about we order burgers or sandwiches, then?” Billy suggests. “I know a diner that makes strawberry shortcake that’s pretty close.” He doesn’t really eat at restaurants, usually, but Batman did give them a lot of money and it is a special occasion, so . . . 

“. . . fine,” Lynn says, and then Billy hears the closet door slide shut. 

Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but it’s not a “no” either. Which, uh . . . might still not be really “fine” or really “no”, but–well, they’re gonna work on that.

[deja-yu]

6 & 14 from 🌸 with sani 🙏

Choi San 6. "You've ruined me." & 14. "Do you know how long I've dreamt of this happening?"

Fantasy setting (dnd inspired) 1.1K warnings; fighting, dragon, goop monsters

As if a spell was put on him, San found his mind polluted by you. Ever since you joined the party San had found himself stuttering and clumsily stumbling over his own feet whenever in your vicinity. The way he would perk up at the mention of your name didn’t go unnoticed by the others. It had led to Hongjoong never sending the two of you off alone. You went on missions with Yeosang and Seonghwa, it was a good dynamic, perfect even. Seonghwa would always play his part as rogue, never having to go into a conflict without having the upper hand. Yeosang was precise and his arrows would never miss, light as a feather as he moved between the branches of the trees. And no enemy had ever bested you in combat, your skill and power always putting you one step ahead.

It had been days since San watched the three of you leave to scout out an enemy base. It was a big quest, the biggest the party has gotten commissioned for. He knows his worries are misplaced but he couldn’t stop the yearning for you that was tugging at his heart. Caught of guard by the screams on his walk from town back to base. The people running from a bear bump into him and he isn't quick enough to secure his footing. Cursing himself for being distracted as he hits the floor. It gave the animal an upper hand and would it not have been for the arrow piercing the beast’s arm. He wonders if he could’ve gotten up and landed the fatal blow in time. The arrow familiar he feels relief flood him but it is short lived spotting Yeosang appear from the trees with an ungraceful stumble. Rushing to his friends’ side he was quick to carry him back to base without wasting time on questions. Mingi cringed as he healed Yeosang, pacing the room while his brain was going crazy with worry about you and Seonghwa, San didn’t even hear Hongjoong till he was shoved. Stumbling to the floor with shock on his face as he looks up at his leader “Grab your things, we’ve got a city to burn”.

But in the days ride it took, the city had already caught fire. Screams filling San’s ears and everyone stumbled back as a dragon shot up in flight, rising above the smoke before the breath it took silenced the world for a moment. The fire spread fast through the streets and the glow of red danced on their faces as they watched. Heart hammering in his chest San’s legs started moving before his mind could process. The adrenaline rushing through his blood made easy work of ripping the town gates open. All he could think about was you and Seonghwa stuck in cells as the fire around the two of you build. His friends were quick to join him and Yeosang guided them from the roofs. Between the townspeople running and screaming were creatures made of darkness, after catching sight of San and the others their focused shifted and soon enough the clangs of their swords was all San could hear. But he didn’t have time for this, yelling in frustration as he struck down foe after foe. But they seemed never ending, as the party progressed through the town they found more of them attacking the people. “San! You go with Yeosang we got it here” Jongho yells, as he grabs the second sword from its holster taking a deep breath before both his swords slowly took on a familiar blue glow.

San watched Yeosang on the roofs, following his friends until he suddenly came to a halt, staring at the square ahead. San followed his friends’ eyes to find you in the middle of said square. Relief washes over him but as he looks closer he can see the strain on your features, enemies still advancing towards you, with your edge gone they took multiple hits before going down. San didn’t watch longer, didn’t see or hear how you were motioning to the sky. He struck down everything in between you and him. Your eyes fierce as you turned to him, ready to send a shot of your magic his way, but then you see it’s him and San watches your eyes soften. Breathing out his name in relief before you knees buckle. Catching you before you meet the ground, assessing you for any harm but finding no external wounds. Guilt squeezing his heart wondering how long you had been fighting. When he hears a roar overhead he watches the dragon land on mere meters away. Sharp eyes studying him before another deafening roar fills the square. He couldn’t get out of here with you in time and he wasn’t going to leave you. So, as he watches the sparks light sound falling silent as the dragon breathes in, he covers you as much as he can with himself shield on his back as the only form of protection as he awaits the flames to nip at his skin. But it never comes, as red and orange flames dance around you two the only things burning are the creatures still advancing. Holding out a hesitant hand into the flames, he jumps at a chuckle coming from you. “My magic never harms me or my friends” knitting his brows together he stares at you questioningly. “I turned Hwa into a dragon” saying it with a cocky smirk on your lips. Turning to the dragon San watches the flames die down, dark smoke clearing to reveal his friend. “YOU CAN TURN INTO A DRAGON?” Mingi screams from across the square. But Seonghwa ignores him in favor of rushing over to your side too.

“I’m fine” you mutter but neither seem convinced as you try and sit up, arms giving out but San pulls you against him again to steady you. Letting yourself slump against him you close your eyes “You looked scared” you murmur against his chest, “I was, I didn't know how to get you out of here” snorting you take a peek at his face. “Thought you didn’t get scared” he manages a smile, your jabs at his ego just confirming you will be okay “Seems like you’ve ruined me”. You manage to grab at his collar to pull him down, lips meeting his with a sigh of relief. You can hear Seonghwa huff out a laugh before he retreats to join the others. Pulling away you smile when he chases you to connect your lips again. He doesn’t leave your space after breaking away “Do you know how long I dreamed of this happening? I am not letting you out of my sight again” finding his confession adorable you peck his lips once more for good measure.

not me saying oh requests are gonna be 400-600 words. Still taking requests! Request post can be found here.

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

My Muse's Mirror (Pt.1)

-------------------------

“Virgil it's been three hours- are you coming to bed or not?” Virgil looked up from the couch, legs hanging lazily over the top as he leaned against the center coffee table.

“In a minute! I'm finishing up a commission!” he said, turning his attention back to the. . . Interestingly dressed mishmash of fur and colors that was his latest art request.

“You said ‘in a minute’ 3 hours ago, that commission isn't due until next week- I'm sure you can pick it back up in the morning,” Roman said, Virgil listened as his husband shuffled off of the bed, feeling making a slight pattern patter sound as he approached.

“Trust me when I say this, Ro, you don't want to look at anything on screen right now,” Virgil chuckled at the already dawning horror on Roman's face as his bright green eyes traced over to the drawing tablet.

“It's good money- pretty sure the guy's got a science job or something,” Virgil said nonchalantly, saving the drawing and plugging the tablet in on a side table.

“Alright- fine- bedtime for me I guess,” Virgil stretched his arms out before getting up from his precarious couch position.

“That's what I thought,” Roman stepped behind him, evidently in a vague attempt to block him from running back to the tablet to do some ‘last minute detailing’. Virgil glanced at the smartwatch on his wrist, which read 3:47am. Geez, he really had been up for a while.

“Don't forget your teeth tall dark and sleep deprived,” Roman said before climbing back into bed.

Virgil made his way into the bathroom, taking his phone out of his sweatpants and pulling up YouTube to find a decent 3-minute song.

With the insides of his mouth now thoroughly engulfed with the overwhelming taste of mint Virgil climbed into bed, wriggling his way into Roman's arms.

His peaceful sleep was interrupted by the God forsaken sound of Roman's alarm clock. Virgil let out a small whine of protest as he felt the warmth of Roman's body slip away to leave him in the cold dark abyss of an empty bed.

“Aaaww, don't worry my chemically imbalanced romance, I will return shortly from my quest with chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese for dinner,” Roman said with a laugh, ruffling Virgil's hair.

“It's not a quest it's a 9 to 5 where you get paid to sing at people while they try to order food,” Virgil said with a laugh.

“Well- if you're so incensed shout it then maybe I won't take you out to the carnival after my shift,” Roman taunted.

“Wait- carnival?”

“They just opened for the winter, seems like a pretty spooky theme, I thought you might like to go, but if you're just sooooooo upset about my job. . .”

“Nononono forget I said anything! I want to go pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!-” Virgil, in a surprising turn of usual events, had gotten out of bed before 12pm at the news.

“Fiiiinnneee- I suppose I'll take you after work,” Roman said, smiling.

Virgil, deciding that since he was already up, he might as well get a few things done, decided to get himself some coffee and breakfast with his cousin Janus, and his new boyfriend.

“So Virgil, what'd you do for a living?” Patton was a very- Spunky- Person, not the kind of guy Virgil would've pegged for Janus, then again, he doubted Roman would've been the expected choice for himself.

“Oh uh- I'm an online artist,” Virgil responded, face flushing slightly pink.

“Oh wow! You must be very talented,” Patton said, all smiles and encouragement. Virgil was having a very difficult time figuring out if he was ever serious about anything he was saying, or if the sweetness was some kind of weird power trip.

“Uh- thanks- I guess-”

“Don't mind him dear, he hasn't quite figured out the concept of self confidence yet,” Janus said, chuckling.

“My confidence has nothing to do with my hesitancy to talk about my career and you know it,” Virgil said, eliciting a small snrk sound from Janus, who was very clearly trying to avoid breaching the topic of what kind of commissions Virgil usually earned the biggest salary from.

“So- this carnival Roman's taking you to later tonight- is it far?” Janus asked.

“Not by much, only like an hour or two,” Virgil responded, finishing off the last of his croissant.

“Oh, then I'm sure you'll have plenty of animation ideas by the time you get there,” Janus said with a laugh.

“What can I say? There's nothing like a good long dissociative spell to get rid of a little art block,” Patton looked vaguely alarmed, but held back whatever he might have wanted to say about that particular statement.

“Well I'd love to stay and chat about your unhealthy coping mechanisms, but I'm afraid Patton and I have a train to catch- big business party tonight,” Janus said as he stood up from the table.

“Don't get too drunk, don't want your new boyfriend seeing you cry about snakes again do you?” Virgil said, snickering as Janus moved to pull his hat over his rapidly darkening face.

Virgil watched the two of them leave, then hopped into his own car for a quick drive to his brother-in-law Remus’ house.

“We finished up the paperwork yesterday, so now we're just waiting to hear back from the adoption agency! I don't think Logan's ever been so excited in his life- well- other than getting Valedictorian in high school- or after that trip to Spain we took to visit Ro and I's grandparents- or-” 

“I think Logan might just be very excited about new things, Remus,” Virgil said, admiring Remus’ newest addition to his pottery shelf.

“Is this one a commission? Or are you keeping it?” Virgil asked, tilting his head at a particularly horrific looking sculpture.

“Oh yeah- that one's for me, one of my ‘therapy pieces’,” Remus replied.

“Ah- that explains it,” Virgil said, taking a seat on the nearby couch and giving a resolute scratch behind the ears to Remus and Logan's dog, Rosalie.

They sat and talked for a while, about Logan's new job at the local daycare, about emotional expression through art, about some of Roman's newest embarrassing stories that he didn't need to know they were talking about.

“Well- I should get going- Roman'll be heading home any moment now and I want to make sure I'm ready to head to the carnival when he's off,” Virgil said, standing up from the dining room table.

“Have fun- take pictures- and if you find any fun souvenirs I'd love to see them,” Logan, who'd just gotten home from his own shift, said as Virgil left through the door with a small wave.

“See anything interesting?” Roman asked, watching Virgil eye some of the carnival shop stands curiously.

“What about. . . This? I think it would look good on you,” Virgil said, holding up a silver dragon necklace with red gems where the eyes would be.

“Oh you'll want to be careful with that one my dear. . . Legend says that the soul of a selfish and arrogant prince is trapped inside. . .” The woman manning the counter spoke in a low raspy tone, her black hair covering her face under the raggedy cloak she wore.

Virgil laughed it off, handing her a few bucks and clasping the necklace around Roman's neck.

They spent the rest of the day riding around on the carnival rides until the amount of snack food they'd been eating felt like it might catch up with them, before heading home for the night.

“Don't go to bed too late my dear, I'll be waiting,” Roman said as he headed off to bed, the silver chain of his new necklace peeking out from his pajama shirt.

“I'll go to bed before 3am, promise-” Virgil responded, setting up his work station, maybe he could finish up that commission tonight so he and Roman would have the whole day to themselves tomorrow, to see if maybe there was a matching necklace or something at that carnival.

Virgil could've sworn he saw a spider, somewhere. . .

[sforzesco]

What interests you most about the pazzo conspiracy? I've been reading up about it and all the forces at play are so fascinating and also the long chain of events that leas to it. Have a good day!

the biggest thing is probably that I hate the medici family with the force of a hundred suns exploding at once lmao

but also! I love the interconnected dialogues on tyranny that happen between the conspiracies! it's interesting, especially when you get into the reception of it.

Conspiracy Literature in Early Renaissance Italy, Marta Celati

there is something very revealing in a failed conspiracy, in how the people who maintain their hold to power choose to invent the narrative, and who they employ to create the propaganda. the resulting art and literature people create about an event, on an event, discoursing on it, is equally revealing and complex.

April Blood, Lauro Martines

with the pazzi specifically, it's sort of how the medici have gotten away with basically everything they ever did. public reception of them to a casual enthusiast of art or history tends to lean positive, you'd be surprised how many assassin's creed fans have strong opinions on the matter even though that's a game, although it does have a place in the arena of historical reception and fiction and how it reflects/informs a casual audience's opinion on the event. (pour one out for my twitter notifications when my handle was 'francesco de' pazzi apologist' jesus fucking christ)

April Blood, Lauro Martines

the pazzi are a recognizable strike against them, and it's all the more fascinating to me how they persist (whether positive or negative, nbc's hannibal uses the pazzi thematically, i medici [the show]......exists, assassin's creed does as it does, etc) despite how thoroughly lorenzo de medici tried to erase them while simultaneously celebrating his own triumph. pazzi portraits were probably altered or destroyed. there was also a fresco of their bodies commissioned for the public to see. (botticelli got the commission for the pittura infamante)

April Blood, Lauro Martines

and also the literature commissioned after the conspiracy was obviously propaganda* to paint the pazzi in a bad light, some of it fucks hard.

*most art commissioned was propaganda in one way or another

Conspiracy Literature in Early Renaissance Italy, Marta Celati

April Blood, Lauro Martines

in summary: I hate the Medici, and I like the Themes™

[missizzy]

Perc'ahlia Week Day Two Fic

The funeral of Lady Vex'ahlia de Rolo was probably the biggest event Whitestone had seen in years. Officially it wasn't really bigger than the funerals held for other Chamber members and such, except they had to extend the viewing of her body to a full week, because so many people came to pay their respects. (Also to give those who managed the tombs time to figure out how they were going to inter the bear with her.) But it sort of extended itself into the days before, with people canceling other events and holding personal wakes with their friends to commemorate her or just be there for each other, and it seemed every last inhabitant of Whitestone attended at least one of the day's official events.

After she (and Trinket) were at last laid to rest beside her husband, and the final song to the Dawnfather had been sung, much of the crowd still lingered in and around the castle. Its entrance hall and much of the ground floor remained open, and they had even hung all the paintings of the lady and her family in the hall for her mourners to see.

Noone had seen her two surviving children once the services had ended; word was they'd retreated upstairs. Some scanned for the surviving members of Vox Machina; about them, there was only word that the two gnomes had gone into the city.

As well as all the people of Whitestone, the various events had also been heavily attended by ravens. Some of those who had come from outside Whitestone had shown their confusion about it, and even more at the nonchalance of the city's inhabitants. But by now, even those people had gotten used to them, and nobody was looking at them much. Nobody noticed if one of them seemed to fly a little apart from the others, or looked at everything and everyone with sharper, more knowing eyes than the other birds did.

Keyleth still didn't take the form of a raven that often, and usually only when there were multiple other birds around. She never attempted to talk to any of them, either. It was just that she'd started feeling it as a weird comfort ever since that time when Vax had been captured and tortured and had been unable to send his ravens to her.

There weren't that many places in the hall for the ravens to perch, but Whitestone's inhabitants often welcomed them on their shoulders, so long as they were wearing something thick enough. There were plenty of Pale Guard about still in their pauldrons, and Keyleth landed on one of them, a certain young human man named Flanders, and settled down as he joined another half-elf Pale Guard-Manora, she thought her name was, and another human in front of the portraits. Manora was identifying the various people depicted for her companion's benefit. When she pointed to the painting of Vax, commissioned by Vex shortly after his death, Keyleth looked away. She'd never liked that picture of him.

"And that, of course, is Vesper," she continued. "I think this painting was done when she became Guardian after Cassandra finally stepped down."

"Wonder if she's ever going to step down," said Flanders. "The way she's going she could very well die still holding the Woven Stone, and then who gets it? I assume it's not gonna be her eldest-did he even show up today?"

"He came," said Manora. "I don't know for how long, but I spotted him with the other grandkids. But I'm pretty sure it's going to be Klarus over there." She gestured over to where Danny's Tiefling grandson was speaking to a whole knot of people near the castle entrance.

"A Tiefling?" the strange man asked. "And the townspeople won't object?"

"You're behind the times, Harold," she informed him. "What trouble these people might have given Tieflings when the first of them was born into the de Rolo family was gone by the time she died, having already gone down in history for putting in all the lights we're viewing these pictures by right now, and I've heard she even oversaw the first installations of them in Emon."

"That's right," said Flanders. "My grandmother said to me once that when she was a little girl, before Lord Percival de Rolo died, he and his youngest went to every house in Whitestone to put a light in."

That was actually an exaggeration; they'd had help. In fact, Keyleth couldn't help but feel a little sad Pike's involvement was apparently being forgotten.

But Flanders was continuing, "She told some other tales about Gwendolyn de Rolo, too. Everything from how she designed Rexxentrum's skyport to how she told off the High Warden of Syngorn and completely got away with it."

"I've heard about that one, too," said Manora. "Probably one of her mother's proudest days."

"What, really?" asked a surprised Harold. "I always thought she had better manners than that."

Even in her raven form, Keyleth felt herself shake with the supressed laughter. Manora didn't try to suppress it. Flanders took it differently, though, frowning and saying, "Do you have any idea how they still treat Tieflings in Syngorn? Lord de Rolo is even on record as having said he'd always disliked going there, first for how they treated his wife, and then later for how they were treating his various Tiefling descendants. And I think the twins always refused to go there at all after Leona ended up having two Tiefling children."

"They did," said Manora, "and their parents withstood considerable pressure to make them relent on it. I believe they even hounded poor Lady de Rolo about it at her husband's funeral."

It had been even worse than that. Keyleth had stayed with Vex for a couple of weeks after Percy's death, and she vividly remembered how the two elves who had accompanied Syldor had harassed both Vex and the twins the entire time they'd been there. Syldor hadn't joined them, but he hadn't stopped them either. Finally she'd gotten them both alone and she might have made a couple of threats that had endangered the diplomatic relations between Syngorn and the Ashari, and possibly also just about everyone north of them on the continent. Honestly, Keyleth was glad these people apparently hadn't heard about any of that.

Remembering those painful days, on top of her grief over now having lost Vex as well, was almost too much for Keyleth. She found herself retreating into the raven brain, tuning out the trio of young people for a little while, even tucking her head under her wings and muffling some still sorrowful chirps.

When she finally poked her head back out, Flanders, Manora, and Harold had joined a pair of half-Orcs in front of the most famous painting of Leona and Wolfe, done shortly after they'd turned fifty. They were talking a little quickly, and she didn't try to catch much of what they went over, but it sounded like the general common accounts of their exploits. These days probably more people knew about Leona and Wolfe than knew about their parents.

One of the two half-Orcs, whom Keyleth believed might have been called Leyla, turned out to have a mother who had fought alongside the twins in her youth, and even been friends with Wolfe's second wife. She could tell her mother's tales of what Leona had said to her soldiers before they'd ridden to face the Iron Authority, of the nights they all spent trying to keep warm in the Cliffkeeps, of how they had reacted when they'd received the news of their father's death.

"Is is true," Flanders asked her, "that after they both were killed in their final battle, there was a note found, addressed to their mother and signed by both of them, that asked that she only try to bring one of them back if they other was still alive, that if they fell together, she let them go?"

"I think so," said Leyla. "Mom didn't like to talk about it, though. Everyone who served under Leona and Wolfe were devastated when they were killed. The people they led loved them so much."

Vex hadn't wanted to talk about it much either. That had probably been an even more painful time for her than Percy's death had, especially since Gwen's health had been failing, making it clear she, too, was near her natural end. Keyleth remembered two days before the funeral, finding Vex sitting in the Widow's Garden, staring at the plants she and Percy had spent decades curating, and when Keyleth had sat down beside her, she'd just fallen against her and remained silent for a while.

And then, when she'd finally spoken, she'd said, "Percy was never entirely happy with the path the two of them took, especially with Leona wielding guns the way he used to. He accepted their choices, and he understood why they made them, but it never stopped causing him grief. What would he think now, Keyleth? Would he think we failed as parents?"

Keyleth had assured her he wouldn't, of course, and she genuinely didn't think he would. But her attempts to console Vex hadn't gone very well that day. It had in fact been Danny, who had found her mother shortly after she had, who had brought a smile to her face with his extended stories about his siblings, the reminders that they had not been just warriors.

Danny, whom this little group were now standing in front of. The painting of him had been done when he'd been in his forties, and had really started committing himself to the care and tending of the Parchwood, though Keyleth believed that he drew his power from the city as much as the woodlands. There were parts of the depiction of him that reminded Keyleth all too much of his namesake, but she knew that the way he and his surroundings were drawn was also done to be reminiscent of certain artistic depictions of she herself.

It was not a surprise, either, when her own name came up in relation to his: "Keyleth the Tempest herself mentored him. Although you know, she was lovers with Lady de Rolo's brother, the one who died young and had his nephew named for him. It's creepy if you think about it."

Well, it had been weird at first. That was maybe when and why Danny had really committed to the nickname. Since then, he'd been Danny, and Vax had been Vax, and Keyleth hadn't had any trouble with that anymore.

Manora's comment hadn't bothered her; she was long past being troubled by such chatter. Flanders, on the other hand, angrily snapped, ""Don't talk about either of them that way! She taught him how to protect this city, and it's thanks to what else she taught him he's going to be around to do it even after we're all dead."

That wasn't true, of course. Keyleth knew how to protect lands from elemental rifts, but Whitestone was threatened by different phenomena, and she'd mostly just helped Danny in figuring out how to deal with those. And getting up to the level of druid where his aging was slowed he had completely done himself. She was grateful he'd done it, though. He'd already lived enough of his lifespan first he wouldn't last nearly as long as her, but any friends she could keep for longer were good, especially one from the two she had now both lost.

So she minded less when the other half-Orc (Claude? She wasn't sure), said, "I thought that was Lady de Rolo herself who taught him how to guard the land. She took all five of her children out with the Grey Hunt at least briefly, although only the twins really stuck with it."

"She might have," said Manora. "Sometimes it feels like she had a hand in all the ways Whitestone has grown and prospered and been a place of accomplishments during the past century or so. She had to have monetarily, at least, and this was a woman who never stopped visiting people who were suffering loss or hardship, at much as she could practically manage, whose advice so often made up the Chamber's mind, who presided over every event in the city, became the face of it abroad after her husband's death."

She turned as she spoke to a portrait of Vex, one done about a decade or so after Percy's death. She had really started to show her age then, but this was a painter that made the lines on her face and the greying of her hair increase her feeling of dignity and wisdom. Trinket had been painted with her in this one, and the warmth with which her hand caressed him was easy for the viewer to interpret as symbolizing her kindness to all who had been under her care.

Keyleth had now been on Flanders' shoulder long enough her wings had started to itch, and so she alighted, chirping in response when first he and then his companions called out a farewell to her. Up she went, over the heads of the crowd, meandering her way towards the castle entrance and fresher, cooler air.

As main hall fell behind her, Keyleth briefly looked back. For a moment, she could see all of them there, Vex and Percy and their children, all of them young and strong again, making the world feel like it never stood a chance against them.

Then she turned and flew out into the city they had made together, now starting to stretch in size enough to completely fill her view, and dove down to find Scanlan and Pike, wherever they had gotten to in its bustling streets.

[hereforyourdispleasure]

Desire, fear, secret - all of them except K pick your poison

I am going to pick which one for which because I feel I may explode if I have to write fear and secret about Darian for the 24th time

Darian- desire- what he's wanted forever is to live his idealised life, essentially meaning having the people he loves with no threat to them. Before he got here, that would've looked like Oli, Dani, Mark and Alir all alive and well. Of course Oli and Dani's liveliness would've meant a breach of essentially every single timeline rule to exist. But you give a kid the option to time travel, then later on the ability to see realities where everything isn't fucked over for him, the ability to get away with stuff, and a "founder" who did that for his family multiple times, and obviously the idea's going to be there the whole time. It just progressed with meeting everyone else, more people he wants to keep being around, more to protect. And for the most part, it's worked out, with the people who caused conflict and threats seemingly filtering off without that much intervention. On the other hand, there's a lot of guilt surrounding this idea. He's not stupid, he knows damn well that he shouldn't have this ideal world in mind, especially when it encompasses other people, he is against and basically repulsed by the idea of forcing people to conform to what he wants. He knows his idea of an ideal life would probably not be anyone else's. Not to mention his guilt surrounding wanting Oli and Dani back- something he has mostly moved on from, but would leap at the chance of if there were no consequences. And of course, the guilt that he'd probably never be able to live in such a reality after everything, because of him feeling unsettled in peace. But maybe he'd get the chance to properly heal from the commission. All in all, he's gotten as close to what he originally desired as will probably ever be possible, by means that are still confusing to him because he didn't expressly have this desire in mind, instead just aiming for everyone's safety

Fear- Alir- one of their biggest fears is probably around the idea of loss. Even though they haven't expressly lost anyone in their life, they're very wary when it comes to their profession. With Mark and Darian, people they consider like family at this point, there's the constant fear surrounding everything they do. Their work is always life or death, sometimes death or death, despite both of the boys' attempts to keep Alir away from all of that, they're very aware that either one of them could disappear any day. In fact, they have. Faked deaths of course, but Adrian's "death" in the projects didn't come without consequences. Then it comes to their actual family- commission doesn't have a good track record when it comes to employees' families, often being seen as blackmail material against employees. As if it wasn't enough that their family faces a lot of risks living in the time and location they do. I'm hoping to properly do Lydia and Alir visiting their family, because the juxtapositions between the 3 characters' family dynamics is one of my favourites. And, as we'll hopefully see if I have the motivation, Alir is pretty cut throat when it comes to threats to their loved ones

Mark- secret- I feel this one is getting more obvious with the reveal, but the obvious discrepancy between his apparent lack of involvement, as well as his lack of position and power in comparison to the real thing. With Darian's level of social, and sometimes physical, power being forced to the surface in order to flip the power dynamic of the commission, there comes a new dynamic: the powerful star there to shine and draw attention, and his monotonous office worker friend who doesn't do anything and poses no threat. Absolutely none at all

[bookwyrminspiration]

So what do we know about Elysian? Cause I keep seeing people using She/her pronouns for Elysian but I can’t remember any proof on how people reached that conclusion idk if that’s just peoples head canon or if I missed something tho lol

We know remarkably little, but I will try to summarize it all here--if I miss something, just let me know!

So we know that Elysian is a person who wears a grey cloak with a "dark and raw and somehow melodic voice," who, upon introduction, nullified seemingly everyone in the vicinity's abilities. No one was able to use theirs and they couldn't feel them.

Elysian is referred to with she/her pronouns in the second to last line in the book, though it's understandable to miss as it's literally one word. We also know that she's a power source. What that means isn't clear yet, though. She was, however, able to somehow step "out of thin air."

According to Shannon, Elysian is also a secret of the Lost Cities that she's been aware of and building up to the entire series. Everything going on has had this hidden mystery in the background.

I believe that's everything we know for certain about the person. There's also all we know about Elysian the island, and some of that may actually be about the person, as no one knew the person existed. For example, it was referred to as "the most dangerous secret our world has ever buried" (541), and it's related to a seventh unnamed element that is a combination of the three Prime Sources. The starlight from those sources, however, is a specific starlight from a sixth unmapped star; this star only appears when the other five are in line during Nightfall, a specific window of time. These sources imbue the earth at Elysian (the island) with power, which everyone assumed the power source to be until the person was revealed. It was hidden with illusions and there is a stained glass dome building there, though it's unclear what its purpose is. There was a missing starstone (now found in Biana's possession) leading to the place that Lady Gisela commissioned, but it got Cyrah roped into everything to some extent.

So some of that may have relation to the person, but how much and what I can't say. Otherwise we just know everything before that. I believe I've covered everything? Essentially, she's a person/power source hidden from the elven world as the biggest secret of the series, if I've gotten everything clear. Hope that helps!

[tinytowns]

ପ( ໊๑˃̶͈⌔˂̶͈)੭  ✶  𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒔 𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛  !

the time for celebration has come again &. this time we're celebrating the big eight - hundred ! over the last few months i've been unable to make posts commemorating my milestones . . . honestly because i've barely been able to keep up with my growth &. all the love that's been so graciously shown my way - it's time to give some back , don't you agree ?

the last milestone we celebrated together was 200 followers in august of 2022. since then , i've made new friends in this community , fallen out of touch with a few others , been reblogged or acknowledged by the people i admired from a great distance , and reached heights i never thought possible .

and it's all because of you , who gives so much love to me &. my silly little creations ! going forward , i want to continue being a creator that the rpc can respect & be proud to home in this wonderful community .

from the bottom of my heart , my dearest friends , thank you for gifting me this milestone , i will cherish it forever . . . without further ado let's get into my follow forever ♡

✶ BERRY , to the girl who works harder in one day than i ever have in my entire life &. supported me since day one on this crazy journey , i feel it'd be a sin to begin this post without acknowledging you &. your works first . without a droplet of doubt you continue to be one of my biggest inspirations , motivations , and loves ! really , you're such a superstar in everything you do because you do it so well. i'm convinced you could take the ugliest graphic in the world and completely transform it into something that'd snatch my breath away ; to have even a fraction of your talent would be such a blessing . thank you for being by my side , i'm so lucky to have you . follow berry on @fruitzys and check out their amazing work including templates , gif packs , and blog graphic commissions . their comms are currently open !

✶ NAIA , for my most precious friend who always produces such high quality content that i'm frankly envious of , i love you to the ends of the earth &. even beyond that ! we met in 2022 but i'd been keenly following you for quite some time even before that , devouring whatever resources you'd so kindly release &. mourning their unfortunate departure . naia releases content ? i'm always first in line to grab what i can , kiss her cheek , and run away giggling like a maniac with whatever you released tightly in my grubby little hands . i'm immensely grateful to have gotten the chance to meet you , one of my favourite creators , without even realizing it until quite a few days later . i may be quite introverted these days , but trust me when i say i'm always thinking about how you're doing , what your next exciting project will be , and how to show love to you in more ways . follow naia on @pinkfaire where they release beautiful themes , powerpoint templates , and is just too cute on a daily basis .

✶ MIKI , youuuuuuu . . . you've been absolutely killing the game ever since your first resource debut in the rpc , you absolute menace ! trust and believe my notifcations are ON for a miki drop . that week of december where you were dropping the most jawdroppingly beautiful resources left & right like it was nobody's business ? dude , i was shaking &. crying &. taking wtvr crumbs resource goddess miki decided to bless us with ??? keep killin' it you funky little seungkwan luvr . i love u !! as a consumer , i was living my best life - but as a creator ?? i was shaking , i needed to step my game up you were just that intimidatingly GOOD at what you do !! you also made me want to start making templates ?? you're an absolute trendsetter . follow miki on @vernonline where they post gif packs &. psd templates !! they also have a kofi here so consider supporting them

( ❀ ˆ꒳ˆ˵ ) ♡ HONOURABLE MENTIONS ,

✶ ADORA , never had much of a chance to speak with you one - on - one but i'm anticipating future resources because i know from dash that you're working hard on them ! follow adora on @adoramita where they will be posting ask memes , templates , and tutorials ! their commissions are currently open .

✶ DOLLIE , we met properly recently but i've definitely always noticed you in my notifications supporting me so keenly - thank you so much , i look forward to a blossoming friendship between us my most beloved doll ! now i'm not sure if you've ever released things , but it's worth it to follow dollie anyway because they're such a bright &. kind - hearted person ! truly a delight to speak with ♡

and that's it , i believe ? hopefully i haven't forgotten anybody in this line - up but if i have then i'll make corrections later . check all of these wonderful people out , commission them , and give 'em a little something something through kofi if you're willing ! this concludes coco's 800 celebration ~ thank you , i love you all ♡

[slightlytoastedbagel]

top 5 project sekai covers?

Like with the commissions this is a top 10 just because.

10. Lonely Universe

MinoHaru... The line "Ever since I was able to meet you" alone makes this a great cover, but I love them so much it gets boosted all the way to here. I feel like this cover isn't as well known so please I am begging everyone to listen to it because it's gorgeous.

9. When The Morning Glory Falls

HONAMI MOCHIZUKI HAS THE MOST UNDERRATED VOICE IN THE GAME AND THIS COVER PROVES IT. She is stunning. Her alt vocal should just come free with the original song in game. The IchiHona duet with Miku is also good though.

8. MKDR

Why the hell did it take almost two years for KanaEna to get to sing together? Every other Nightcord duo had gotten a song very quickly into the game but they had to wait forever, and when they finally do they knock it out of the park. Their alt vocals for this song are also amazing. I was so happy to see this song get a 2DMV a few weeks ago.

7. Shanti

They let KAITO sing with people other than AkiToya for once and he unleashed one of the biggest bangers ever. Everyone was on point in this cover. Toya's rap is the part everyone likes to bring up but I'm also bringing it up because it IS just that good.

6. Ego Rock

I listen to this cover too much to admit. The entire thing is just very WxS-esque to me. I wish we could get an alt for any of them just because I think hearing one of them swear would be funny. Tsukasa has already gotten to swear let him do it again. Or maybe let Nene I think she should be allowed to.

5. Gehanna

MizuEna. Everytime Mizuki and Ena have sung together it's just been improvement on top of improvement. The fact we're likely getting another soon as KanaMafu have now hit 4 covers as well has excited me. There's also this sort of build in power throughout the song and it's just great.

4. YY

"What if we let AkiToya sing a fun song for once?" is what I'm assuming someone asked which led to the creation of this beautiful cover. They're all having so much fun you can hear it in their voices. Akito's high note in the chorus as well. An got an alt vocal for this just recently and while I haven't been able to listen to it fully I know I'll love it. Can we get a 33.exe commission at some point? Please?? Or maybe YY full???

3. From Y to Y

Leo/Need you will always be famous to me. I almost want to tear up every time I hear Saki open into the final chorus in the full version. L/N tend to fall into the pattern of Ichika and whichever vocaloid is there singing for the majority of the song, while this is no different I feel that Ichika and Miku singing the most adds to the song when considering the lyrics. It's just a beautiful cover.

2. Melty Land Nightmare

What if you had an idol group with two girls associated with blue, one with pink and one with brown and decided they should sing a song with the two main characters of said song being coloured blue and pink respectively. This entire cover is genius. MinoAiri and ShizuHaru singing seperately the entire time feeds into the idea that the former two are playing the role of Melty and the latter two the role of the blue girl. Miku is used amazingly to add a sense of mystery to the Melty Land. We need more Harumaki Gohan in game.

1. Alter Ego

BEAUTIFUL STUNNING MAGNIFICENT MUSIC PEAKED RIGHT HERE. I love everything about this cover. The use of the different duos within VBS (AkiKoha and AnToya in the verses and AkiAn and ToyaKoha in the chorus plus the single line for AkiToya and AnHane) is just perfect. The use of Miku as mostly backing vocals is perfect. The way everyone is singing at the end is PERFECT. It's powerful it's Vivid Bad Squad at it's peak it's everything I could ask for.

[master-of-shenanigans]

Sup! I'm here to ask! This my main account, you usually know me by my alt account that now also shares my name cause tumblr is stubborn like this for no damn reason. Anyway. Your VtM OC. What is their name? What is their clan? What is their drive in life? What do they identify as pronoun and such wise? What's their biggest struggle with being a vampire? Have they ever had a confusing relationship where they were in love or infatuated with someone for inconceivable reasons that were feelings they didn't want to be having?

Well hello there! 😳I'm sorry this answer took so long!

I guess we're being cringe on main, on cringe dot com. You're not the only person who came out of the woodwork after I made this post, so I've decided to answer these very thoughtful questions publicly.

Name: Violet

She's my PC (/Storyteller's "player" NPC? We'll see how much I end up playing vs Storytelling) for a projected v5 chronicle (set in a LA by Night inspired timeline on the premise of "what if the Camarilla stayed in charge?") who's quickly blossomed into an OC that gives me brainrot and cuteness aggression. Go look at some fanart I commissioned of her, I can't recommend my friend's artwork enough.

Clan: Tremere (surprise, surprise...)

Gender, Pronouns, Etc.: Cisgender, she/her, demisexual, bi/pan, and ambiamorous (could be happy in either polyamory or monogamy, depending on the person and the relationship dynamic).

Drive in life (and unlife): Poor baby is a people pleaser. First and foremost at the outset of her story she's driven by external validation, being reassured that she's doing the right thing and being perceived as likeable. The latter is not easy to achieve when interacting with non-Tremere, but she's a little ray of moonlight with decent social stats. She's going to do her best. This predisposition was mentally beaten into her while she was alive, and she carries it over into her unlife as well. After she's gotten to have some character development and trauma healing, "people pleasing" will be replaced by self discovery and a thirst for knowledge (she is a Tremere after all) as her main motivators. Both of these, especially the latter, are already very present in her character from the beginning.

Biggest struggle with being a vampire: the expectations. She's only a baby "hello, neonate" but she's of a horrifyingly low generation due to her sire being an elder, and her sire expects her to (un)live up to his legacy... in time. He's very strict and upfront about these expectations, but he has the patience of one who thinks in terms of centuries. So despite how afraid of disappointing him she is, he's quite forgiving with her beneath his stoic demeanor. To him there's no rush, her potential is there and it must be nurtured at it's own pace. There's also the expectations of other Kindred - due to her sire's position in the Camarilla, she has a lot of eyes on her and she's terrified of not meeting expectations. People pleaser, remember?

Oh, and the Second Inquisition. That sucks too.

Inconceivable and unwanted infatuation feelings: oh has she ever. Without going into excruciating detail, this sums up her whole relationship with her sire. Blood bonds work in mysterious ways, you know? (Though she would still be in love with him anyway without the blood bond at this point.) This is highly unprofessional and inconvenient and she wishes often that it would go away because she worries that being so flustered around him will annoy him; he has to know how she feels, and he's never made the slightest indication of reciprocating. He must not be interested. (Or is he...?)

[stellabfly]

Swynwrimo Task 3 - Short and Sweet One Shots

Excerpts from Mjaunie

Task List

Ten Snapshots of Star's life in Mjaunie @menodoramoon (just bc she's mentioned a few times lol)

“Oh, shit!” She exclaimed as the pillars came crashing down around her. Glossaryck cleared his throat. Heckapoo seemed unbothered by her language, but Baby shook her head disapprovingly. As did other members of the commission. How unladylike, one of them muttered. Stella’s cheeks flared which only got more disappointed looks. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

She was five when she caused her first accidental fire with her magic. She was seven when she caused her first intentional one.

“I don’t wanna go in the grandma room!” young stella protested. Her mother looked at her confused. Stella pointed at the portrait hall, “the grandmas eyes are scary, they keep following me!”

Her feet kicked in rhythm as she sat by the stove on a stool, listening to her father hum an old song. Stella knew all the words, but Mama doesn't like it when she sings them. Something about it being a 'drinking song', and 'inappropriate' (one of the biggest words Star knows!) but that didn't make sense to a four year old Stella. You couldn't drink songs. And songs couldn't drink things, either! When Papa got to the chorus and started singing the words, Stella belted along with him.

"This is for me?" she had asked, almost afraid to touch the wand. It had been her mother's, and her mother's mother's. All of the grandma's had wielded it. "Don't you need it?" but her mother had assured her she had her own wand as well, and that Stella was at the age she got the family wand. She thanked her mother and took the box. She didn't take the wand out for three days, afraid it wouldn't like her.

Her mother said it came with being a Butterfly, but that didn't make sense to Star. She poked at the hearts on her cheeks. What were they? The Commission wanted them to hide them. Her mother hid hers most of the time. Star knew she was supposed to, but she could never really figure out how. Whenever her emotions ran too high, there were the hearts. She had gotten used to it, but she didn't think she'd ever grow used to the stares some people gave her whenever they appeared.

The dress was itchy. The food was boring. This was apparently a very important dinner and Stella had to be on her best behavior. But she and the other family's kid just kept sticking their tongues out at each other across the dinner table. Stella's mother cleared her throat, and they both stopped messing around.

"Why do I have to be a countess? That sounds boring." Young Stella whined during one of her history lessons. "I wanna go tame dolphins or live with seals or something… not learn about stupid boring treaties and doctrines." This earned her a tired look from her mother. She pursed her lips, resting her head in her hand as her mother went on about the history of Mjaunie trade cycles and relations.

"Would you ever kiss a frog?" Star asked, her head resting on the boy's shoulder. They'd been friends for a while, one of the few she had because his parents were also of 'high importance.' They were both still so young, though. twelve, at the oldest. Maybe he was already thirteen? He had made a face at her question, but then after a moment, he leaned over and kissed her. On the mouth! Stella shrieked and punched him in the stomach before running away.

Her room was mostly packed up. Her bed remained but nothing that made it hers. Her stuffed animals in boxes to be put away or brought with her, her blankets folded neatly in the closet. The only part of the castle that had ever felt like a place she belonged was gone. There was no room for her here anymore. She tried not to cry as she shut her bedroom door. The only thing that kept the tears from flowing was the fact that she refused to let her mother see her cry over this anymore.

[b33viemm]

expldoes

all fotthem

1. When did you start creating art? when i was born

2. Do you do art in any professional capacity? (Graphic design, commissions, animation, etc.) no

3. What are your favorite subjects to draw? (OCs, your fan faves, etc.) art based on media or topics i like or am passionate about

4. What's your least favorite part of the body to draw, if any? all of it. i rarely draw people in detail. id probably say faces if we get specific

5. What piece of art are you still proud of to this day? (Show or describe)

i like these two but i could also put a bunch of my spiderverse art up there

6. Favorite and least favorite angles/perspectives to draw? i hate drawing

7. Who are some artists that have inspired you? too many to count. mainly fanartists

8. How would you describe your art style? art style?

9. What's the longest you've ever suffered from artblock? i once dropped a genloss piece for several months, but i typically go through frenzies of drawing then i stop for a bit

10. How do you deal with art block? i dont i let it sit until it goes away on its own. normally this works

11. Have you ever drawn a meme with your OCs or canon characters from a fictional media? i almost have but i got bored. i have certainly IMAGINED memes with them

12. Ever participated in a multi-artist collaboration (3 or more) such as a multi-animator project? no

13. What kind of art do you personally not see the appeal of, and why? i dont think theres an art form i dislike.

14. Do you prefer to make fan content or original content? ratio wise i make a lot more fan content but i like original concepts too. its harder to get those to take off cause people arent exactly searching for original characters on purpose

15. Do you/have you participated in Artfight or art trades in general? no

16. What was something you used to struggle to draw with confidence/ease, but have now mastered? ive gotten better at hands if i use refs

17. Your personal favorite works of art (not made by you) are...? aw man specifically??

this by SOMEONE I CANT REMEMBER THEIR USER BT ITS YELLOWHOODIE OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT HELP

18. Do you typically use filters on your art? yes

19. What's your biggest insecurity when it comes to your artwork? my lack of consistency

20. What motivates/inspires you artistically? (topics, emotions, etc) i like using quotes or song lyrics and my most recent WIP is based off of a song lyric

[foxglove03]

I wrapped up that commission I was dreading. It went fine I just ended up having to redo the thing 3 times which just made me sad. There’s an ease of adjustment I’m suffering from in my arrival home. I find it so simple to flop around hapless with no ambition and just a big shroud of dread. I think art is the worst thing you can ever love. Nothing in this world is as terrible as art. It’s really one of those throw your hands up in the air useless pursuits. I’m no idiot. I don’t have an attitude it’ll all work out and change my life. The biggest nightmare is really loving it, enough to feel like ripping yourself in two at the thought of giving it up. A hobby and you’re basically safe. “I can’t even draw a stick figure,” one exclaims. The privilege. You don’t know the psychological torture of being just slightly too unskilled to do any sort of professional illustration. To know any published comic work will mean quite literally nothing, a drop in a bucket. It makes me sick. I’ve considered teaching at a higher level as an alternative to any loftier dreams but I can’t handle throwing out what I’ve thought about for so long.

My brothers and I don’t talk to intensely about anything, and like I’ve said before, I’ve chipped away at most of my surface level friendships with an acute lack of maintenance. My many parental debacles, literal or invented prevent any serious conversation on that end. I think my life motto if asked would be, “Wherever you go, there you are.” It’s a line that wonderfully misses any pomp and circumstance of the other sayings people stick to. My motto takes a while to drive home, maybe a lifetime. I am half a spectre in my own life. I don’t cast any real presence.

For the past two days I’ve been crammed in the back seat of my mother’s truck on the way to NC for the week. My lips have been so cracked that they’ve been covered in blood everywhere I’ve gone, eyes encrusted with a black and orange smudge. I only started to wear makeup at my militant level recently. While I was in Ireland I really wanted to catch people interested in me. I figured the only way to do that was a nice, yet sort of low effort appearing, look with makeup. God, there’s this desperation I have to be pretty. I really don’t think I am. I’ll say it out loud, I’m not ashamed of it. When a sense of self-hatred runs so deep, it’s no difference. No flattery or polite comments could have me believe I deserve a slice of this earth to be on. I could pick it all apart, from my shoddy-shaped sort of mouth, all other putrid aspects of me. I don’t ask for compliments because I know it’ll help me. Honestly, I don’t care. I’ve been getting a lot of recommendations on Instagram lately of the type of girl I’d die to look like or marry. One who’s misery I’d like to experience, because I imagine it to be an easier pill to swallow. I think I might delete the app for as long as I can. These girls have slowly become the only thing that inhabits my for you page. I can’t look at their faces. It’ll be for the best to provide some distance for myself.

I’ve gotten myself in such deep trouble. I can’t survive any longer because I’ve got no realistic capacity to relax. Alcohol is the only thing that saves me from my prevailing misery. Other routes ruminate on what’s got me so rotten. It’s a clenched fist with every breath. I desire a certain level of bodily harm that isn’t sustainable. I’ve got a head completely rotted. Self preservation is barely a concept I can understand. My thoughts are too disgusting. As I move along I realize it more and more. The music I listen doesn’t even bring me my long standing relief. What to do off the wagon? When I’m in a particularly bad mood I just can’t stomach any music. I’ve been listening to a certain song on a loop while trying to dabble with some other rustic folk music options. Anything a bit happier. Tomorrow is another day. And so is the next, and whatever remains after that. Really, there’s no meaning that can be gathered from the stretch before us. I’ll keep the rest to myself for the most part. It’ll all clear up after break, although the need for a public forum drives home how embarrassing I can be.

As a kid, we’d have these big rain storms where I lived. It just poured down in heaps and heaps. My brothers and I would rustle for some Tupperware to be able to stick near the bushes where this pit followed along the border of our backyard down to the gutter. The whole thing worked like a river. We’d run along, watching our plastic boxes slide between leaves and thick, hard roots till it got all the way around to the mailbox. We’d scoop them us as to not let them hover over the gutter for too long. It’s some of my nicest memories in the rain. In the other places I’ve lived, the rain is a whole lot colder than anything I’m used to. The hot and fat rain of my childhood is a rarity.

I’m in a constant debate if I’m in love with the attention of a personal crisis, so I agitate myself accordingly. Nothing I think is real, the distress is all entertainment, etc, etc. I’ll shut up now, save the real things for the written word.

(All method acting and so not real. This is a funny joke huh, a sense of humor I have! )